A Silhouette of Doom
by wer-sonst
Summary: Dean and Sam are stuck in two different worlds. With Gabriel's help and new alliances, the brothers reunite. However, they find themselves in the middle of a coup d'etat against Crowley, which is waiting to break loose on earth, as well as a new power, which threatens to destroy the world, if it falls the wrong hands. Picks up from the end of season 7.
1. Chapter 1: Where were we?

6

Chapter One—Where were we?

Sam had spent several minutes searching the room.

"Damn it."

He approached the door and opened it and slid out, before tip-toeing down the hall. But just as he came to the exit, two male security guards walked towards him.

"Sammy Winchester," said the tall, blonde male, whose nametag read Bob.

The other was a redhead, who went by Joe. "One down, one to go," he said, grinning.

They sniggered at Sam, while he turned to run back in the other direction, but stopped when he came across a possessed Janitor in front of him, who smirked and held his mop like a weapon. Bob and Joe grabbed Sam and shoved him against glass wall, shattering glass. Sam fell on his side and felt the pieces of glass scratch his face and dig into the palms of his hands. The other demon began kicking him in the stomach. Sam was held down, as the one of the demons kicked Sam in the stomach. He coughed violently, jerking his arms to free himself. Bob slowly pressed his foot down on Sam's skull.

"Any last words, Sam?" he asked.

Sam breathed in heavily, reaching into his pockets. He dug out Ruby's knife and stabbed Bob on the foot, before pushing him off. He quickly jumped to his feet and punched Joe. He then took the knife and shoved it into his stomach, while trying to fend off the possessed Janitor.

He shoved Joe into the others and pushed a long, mahogany table into the remaining demon, knocking him to his feet. Sam sprinted. He reached the end of the long, grey hallway and pushed the doors open. He slammed them shut and just before running down several flights of stairs he saw an emergency ax sitting behind a glass window. He elbowed the glass container and grabbed the ax, before placing it between the two door handles.

He then ran down the staircase, and glanced over his shoulder every few seconds. The large, steel doors rattled behind him. As Sam was about to turn the corner, several gunshots rang in the air. He stopped and glanced out the mirror and saw a large group of demons circling something or someone. One by one, they fell to the ground and or ran to the center, only to fly backwards, and knocked everyone behind them to their feet.

Sam saw a girl in a black motorcycle jacket, jeans and boots with a sword in her hand. Her face hid behind the black vizier of a motorcycle helmet. Sam stormed down the remaining flights of stairs, grabbing his ribcage every now and then. When he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he limped over to the exit.

He walked slowly and hid behind the building. Sam leaned forward and saw bodies sprawled across the pavement. They tossed and turned slightly, moaning and holding their limbs. Sam walked around the bodies, and watched as the girl reached into her leather jacket and pulled out two strips of beige parchment paper with crosses drawn in red ink.

She threw them into the air, extended her arms out and sent them towards demons and stuck to their foreheads. Two of them screamed and fell to their knees, scratching their foreheads, and tore pieces of skin off, blood oozed everywhere.

"Go Sam!" she yelled, glancing up at him. "Now, damn it!"

Sam slowly reached into the back pocket inside his jacket and reached for a small plastic vile. He opened the lid and waited for the girl to turn around. When she did, he chucked the holy water onto her hands. She merely shook her hands out and wiped the water off on her pants.

"A simple thanks would have sufficed."

Sam shrugged. "Sorry, habit."

She bent down towards the corpses, setting the sword down next to her. She leaned forward and laid her hands on the two men she injured. Within seconds, both men were coughing violently. She pushed Sam to the side and walked over to the two others.

"Get out of here," she said, kneeling down.

Sam pulled out his gun and shoved it slightly onto her back. "They're dying," she said, throwing her arms into the air.

"Who are you?" asked Sam.

She rested her palms on their foreheads. When she removed her hands, the marks of parchment paper were gone. The skin they had torn off reappeared, while blood started to dry and crack on their face.

"The rest have been healed."

Sam lowered his gun. "How'd you do that?"

The girl leaned in and rested her palms on the two other injured men. "Just one of the many _tricks_ up my sleeves."

He kept his gun steady, frowning. He didn't know how she had done it, nor did he know whether or not she should be trusted. He leaned forward and tried to reach the sword by its handle. But just as his fingers were about to grace the golden engravings, it slid across the pavement towards the girl.

She tilted her head and looked over her shoulder, shaking her head. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with a stranger's sword?" she asked.

The police officer shot up and coughed. She patted him in the pack. "What happened?" said the blonde police officer.

She got up and reached into her pocket and grabbed a tissue, wiping her vizier and jacket. She glanced at the floor, where her sword still glimmered under the streetlights. Sam noticed an omega on her wrist. It was brown and looked more like a birthmark than a tattoo.

The sword reappeared in her hands, and she slid it back into its sheath on her back, before disappearing into thin air. She walked away, leaving Sam behind.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, following her.

She scoffed. "Get out of here while you still can."

"What's your name?" he asked.

She stopped and turned to him, her face still hidden by the helmet. "No one of consequence."

Sam stopped. "I need to find my brother."

The girl laughed. "Dean's your problem, not mine."

Sam grabbed her by the arm. "So why did you show up?"

She jerked her arm away and turned her back to him, walking towards a black motorcycle that was parked next to the Impala. "Be glad I even came to help you when I had the premonition. For all I care, I could have just left you here."

Sam glared and stormed after her. "I don't know who or what you are. But you have enough of a conscience to come all the way out here, so why won't you help me?"

She hopped onto the bike and pulled the keys out of her front pocket and turned on the vehicle.

"You're a bit too old to be so whiney, don't you think?"

The black Kawasaki Ninja rumbled, and before Sam could do anything, the girl sped off.

Sam walked back to the car and started it up. Meg had crashed it into the Sucro Corp logo, but it looked brand new. There were no pieces of broken glass or bullets lying on the black leather seats. "How'd she do it?" he thought, reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out his cell phone, dialed 911 and left before the ambulances showed up. By daybreak, he came up on an interchange heading out of town. He would hit the first library he could find in the morning, and look up everything he could on purgatory, and if time allowed, for the omega on the girl's wrist.


	2. Chapter 2: Gabriel

Chapter Two—Gabriel

Sam had just checked in at the Sleep-n-Lazy after having spent an entire day in the library. So far his efforts had been fruitless. What little he found on Purgatory was from the old Testament and texts on Dante's_ Divine Comedy_.

His muscles ached and his eyes were heavy. When he finally made it to his room 3C, he dropped his things next to the door, slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the bed, as it rocked him back and forth.

The room itself was dull. The walls were a pale gray and the only window was draped with white curtains. There was a small mini-bar near the entrance to the room, as well as a boxy television set from the 80s, with wire antennas sticking out from behind the television.

"A water bed?" he thought.

Regardless, he scooted back, and closed his eyes, but he saw Dean. Sam watched closely, calling out to his brother.

"Cas?" asked Dean, as footsteps rustled in the darkness around him.

"Dean, you're all right!" said Sam, as he approached Dean.

Dean ignored him and shifted from side to side, looking over his shoulder. Cas was nowhere in sight. Sam watched him, as he squinted and saw several red eyes, glaring back at him. He glanced back and forth between Dean and the red eyes that glared back at Dean. There were several large shadows hiding behind dead trees and marshes. Fog rolled in and out and covered them both from the knees down.

Without hesitation Dean took off. Sam ran after him. They both pumped their arms back and forth and would not glance back. They both ran and leapt over logs. Several howls moaned behind them. Dean came to a marshy hill and tripped. Sam stopped and leaned forward to help Dean get up to his feet, but has his hands graced Dean's arms, his fingers dematerialized as though he were a ghost.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Sam.

"Dean, can you hear me? Can you even see me?"

Dean was lying falling face down, and as he pulled himself up, he felt something grab his foot. Sam tried kicking the creature that tried to drag Dean away, but the demon, or whatever it was, was also aloof to Sam's presence. Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out his gun. Removing the security lock, he pointed the gun near his foot. He moved his arms, so that he wouldn't shoot himself. Holding the gun steadily in his hands, he pulled the trigger. He freed his legs and got up, as the creature, whatever it was, hollered in pain. He started to walk a bit faster, moving in between the trees in front of him.

Just as Sam started running after him, a loud piercing noise stung his ears. The noise vibrated back and forth against his eardrums. Sam fell to his knees, as something was shoved into his skull.

When Sam woke up, he was in a sweat.

"What the _hell_ did you do?" asked a familiar voice.

Sam immediately reached for his gun and sat up. His eyes were blurry, but when his vision focused, he set the gun down slowly. His jaw dropped when he recognized the person, who stood in the room with him.

"Gabriel?" asked Sam.

Sam got up from the bed slowly, and stared as Gabriel approached him, with his hands in his pockets, frowning. He looked exactly the same; he even wore the same green jacket, black shirt and jeans that he had worn on the night of his death.

"You're alive," said Sam.

Gabriel didn't smile. "So I'm sitting, enjoying what is supposed to be the afterlife, and then I find myself back here…in a bigger hell hole than I remember."

Sam grimaced. "God must know what happened," he said to himself.

Gabriel threw his arms up in the air. "Enlighten me."

"Short version," said Sam. "The Leviathans were set loose, and we found the weapon that would destroy them."

Gabriel laughed, clapping. "That's impossible."

Sam stared down at his hands, and before glancing back up at Gabriel. "Meaning?"

Gabriel's smile faded. He shook his head. "No human could destroy the Leviathans, with or without the weapon."

Sam sighed. "Wait a minute. So what's the use of having a weapon, if we can't even use it to get rid of these things?"

Gabriel sat down next to Sam. "Because the Weapon can only be used by my Father."

"But the Word of God said…"

Gabriel shot up from his seat and began to pace back and forth. "Isaiah 27:1 in that day the LORD will take his terrible, swift sword and punish Leviathan, the swiftly moving serpent, the coiling, writhing serpent. He will kill the dragon of the sea."

Sam looked away and instead fidgeted with his fingers. "That would explain why Dean is in Purgatory."

Gabriel clapped. "You bet your ass, kid."

"Damn it. So what now? How do I rescue Dean?"

Gabriel shrugged and walked towards the door. "You're on your own."

Sam followed him. "Wait, where are you going? Look, Gabriel. Like it or not, you're here. Dean and _Cas_ are both gone and are in deep trouble for all I know. It's not just my brother we're talking about here," he said.

Gabriel stopped just as his hand rested on the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder.

"He's the only person I have, Gabriel. Please. That girl wouldn't help me, but you're here and—"

Gabriel turned around, frowning. "Girl, what girl? You have another whore you're working with now?"

Sam clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "No," he said. "This girl, she came out of nowhere and went Black Mamba on a group of Crowley's demons. She healed them even. She said something about a premonition."

Gabriel turned around, his right eyebrow arched up slowly. "Was she an angel?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. She wasn't a demon either, I checked. But she did have this strange marking on her wrist. It was an omega. It looked like a birthmark, actually."

Gabriel's face tightened. "That's not possible."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gabriel sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "One thing at a time. We have Leviathans on the loose, Crowley to deal with, and our brothers stuck in Purgatory. I assume you've been to the Library and found nothing, right?"

Sam nodded. "Absolutely nothing."

Sam watched as Gabriel moved towards the window. He pulled back the white curtains and stared out.

"There _might_ be a way to bring them back," said Gabriel.

"But I don't know if it'll work."

Sam stepped towards the mini-bar and opened the small, white rectangular fridge. "Beer?"

"Please," said Gabriel.

"So how do we get them out?" asked Sam, as he walked towards Gabriel, beers on hand.

Gabriel turned around and grabbed the beer. He removed the cap and chugged it down. Sam watched as Gabriel swallowed the beer in one gulp.

"Props," said Sam.

Gabriel burped. "Good stuff. Anyways. There is a book that might help us, but the last time I heard anything about it was around 1400 B.C."

"And that would be?"

"The Grimoire," said Gabriel.

Sam nodded, unsure of what to say. "And Tweedledum doesn't know what that is, surprise, surprise," said Gabriel.

"_Gabriel_," said Sam.

Gabriel winked and sat down next to Sam. "The Grimoire is supposed to be the oldest, magical text out there. It's the OED of magic. Every demon, spell, and foe known to man is in that book. Including a spell, which can open the portal to Purgatory."

"I thought Angels didn't do magic," said Sam.

Gabriel shrugged. "We don't," he said, collapsing onto the waterbed. "Doesn't mean we don't know of things. At any rate, Dad appointed one human as the Guardian of the book to make sure that it didn't fall into the wrong hands."

"So where is it? How do we find it?" asked Sam, as he took a sip from his beer.

"That's just it. The book has been missing for 6000 years. Dad would be the only one who would know, who this person is, and what they're doing."

Sam finished up his beer and set the bottle down on the brown carpet.

"So once we find this book, then what?"

Gabriel sighed. "You'll have to go in, grab Dean and Castiel, and just get the hell out."

Sam stood up. "So how are we going to find it, exactly?"

Gabriel looked up towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. "I'll go to them, and see what I can find out. Just in case I do not come back immediately, you just keep searching. Find anything you can on the Grimoire. As soon as I hear anything, I'll head straight back."

That being said, Gabriel vanished. Sam stared at the door, wondering whether he should get some sleep, or attempt to find something on the Grimoire. Too tired to move, he kicked off his shoes, grabbed his backpack, and pulled out his laptop.


	3. Chapter 3: Helping Hands for Sam W

Chapter Three—Helping Hands for Sam Winchester.

It had been a week since Sam had seen or heard anything from Gabriel. Nevertheless, Sam kept traveling, stopping in the bigger towns or cities to look up everything he could find on the Grimoire. By the end of the week, he had gotten to Modesto County in California, and had spent the entire day at the library behind a stack of books regarding the Grimoire. As he sat in the library, flipping through Latin, English, French, and Greek texts regarding the book, he observed the library. His eyes were heavy, and he felt his muscles soften, at the sight of the black and red leather bound books in front of him.

"This is going nowhere," he thought. "The book was last mentioned in the 18th century."

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms out. He studied the white wall, with the rainbow colored posters, with random celebrities holding books, and the word READ in large, bold print. His eyes trailed over to the black and white clock, which read five in the afternoon. He had about another hour left, before the library would close.

He shook his head and looked back at the old textbook, which described what the Grimoire actually did. His eyelids closed on him, but as he turned the page, the following paragraph caught his eye.

"While the origins of the Grimoire point back to before the time of Christ, experts are unsure of its origins since it has been documented all over the world. The importance of this book, according to scholars, is related to its contents. It is said to contain astrological rules, lists of all Angels and Demons, Summoning Spells, Incantations…" said Sam aloud.

It was not much to go on, but it was something new he had not heard. Whoever had the book possessed a great deal of information. Just as his eyes trailed down the lines of black print, his stomach grumbled. He looked up, hoping no one had heard hunger gnaw at his stomach. But he was alone with the mahogany cases of old books and empty tables. Instead he got up, stuffed his laptop into his messenger bag and trudged towards the exit.

As he opened the door, a man, around Sam's age, glanced up at him, smirking. He wore a leather jacket and a dark burgundy collared shirt, with dark denim jeans. Sam didn't think much of him, and merely walked passed, but stopped in his tracks, when he was tapped on the shoulder.

"Hi, Sam," he said, in a thick British accent.

Sam took a step back and reached for his gun. Sam elbowed him and knocked him to the floor, pointing his gun directly at the man's chest.

"You don't want to kill me, Sam," he said. "With your brother gone, who is going to protect you from those big scary demons out there?"

Sam pulled the security lock. "Shut up."

"Go, see for yourself. You against an entire army of Crowley's men? Please," he said. "You have a better chance of getting your brother out of Purgatory than taking them on your own."

Sam nodded, and without warning, punched the demon in the face.

"The name is McAllister," he said, wiping the blood from his lip.

"What do you want?" asked Sam.

"Like I said, I'm here to help you get out of here alive."

Sam laughed, still pointing the gun directly at McAllister's chest. "Why the hell should I trust you?"

McAllister snickered. "You shouldn't, but quite frankly, I am your only option."

Sam lowered his gun slightly. "How many?"

McAllister shrugged. "About ten, maybe more."

Sam raised the gun again. "Show me."

They both wandered down the empty, gray hallway and made a turn, heading towards the white, double doors that led to the staircase. McAllister raised his hand and motioned Sam to the window right next to the double doors. Sam peered through the glass. He noticed the sun had already started to set, and a wave of fog started to roll in near the empty parking lot of the library, covering trees and bushes. Amidst the fog, Sam saw a group, who he only assumed to be demons, glancing up at the window. They paced around back and forth like a pack of hungry tigers.

"Oh for fuck's sake." McAllister grabbed Sam by the scruff of his shirt. His pale blue eyes were now as black as his jacket.

Sam jerked away and pointed his gun at McAllister's chest. "I still don't know why the hell I am even listening to you."

McAllister threw his hands up in the air. "You wanna get out of here or not?"

Sam nodded and pointed over to the stairs. When they reached the exit, McAllister pushed Sam back, pressing his index finger to his lips. He stepped outside. Sam crouched away from the exit, and listened carefully.

"McAllister, you son of a bitch. What are you doing here?" asked a female voice.

Sam pressed his ear to the wall. "Don't flatter yourself, Jillian. I'm not here for trouble."

"Says you. Just wait until we turn you into Crowley for helping a Winchester. You know he wants them both dead."

"That's the thing, Jill. I don't work for _**your**_ boss."

"I'd be careful choosing my allies."

McAllister laughed, clapping. "Pity."

A blinding white light radiated through every nook and cranny and Sam flinched away from the windows. Screams wailed around him, followed by absolute silence. Sam opened his eyes. The light had vanished, so instead he stood up carefully.

"All right mate, you can come out now. Don't be shy," said McAllister.

Sam approached the door and leaned forward, peeking through the glass. Everyone except McAllister was gone. He opened the door carefully, with the gun still raised.

"You Americans and your guns. You can relax, they're gone."

Sam put the security lock on his gun, before sheathing it underneath his shirt.

"So what is it? What do you want?" asked Sam.

McAllister scowled. "Not so friendly, are we? Let's just say, I take on debt. You'll get my bill sooner or later."

Sam packed his gun and tucked it underneath his shirt. "Meaning?"

McAllister sneered. "You'll know."

Sam glared at McAllister, but before he could say another word, McAllister trekked towards the waves of fog, which continued to roll in and out of the parking lot, and disappeared.

Sam returned to his motel later that night, after having picked up a fruit salad and some vegetables from a small farmer's market. He entered the room, which was a fragment of the sixties, what with the large, gaudy orange and yellow flower prints on the wall, the red carpet, as well as green bed sheets, which clashed with about everything else in the room. He sat down on an ebony chair, and placed his meal on the round, wobbly table.

He walked over to the bed, picked up a black, bulky remote control and turned on the old black and white television. The signal to a local news channel faded in and out, as a female reporter garbled the latest investments Sucro Corp had made, even after Dick Roman's "untimely" death.

"Sucro Corp has also recently merged with a local milk farm in Modesto," said the reporter.

Sam tore open the plastic container and took a bite out of a large, red strawberry. Juice spilled over his mouth, as he watched the television.

"Damn it, Sam. Do you really have to make such a mess?"

Sam swallowed his food only to pound his fist on his chest, coughing. He peered over his shoulder and saw Gabriel, who stared down at the television.

"Is that all you got?" asked Gabriel.

Sam nodded, reached into the white plastic bag and handed Gabriel a fruit salad. Gabriel frowned. Instead he snapped his fingers, and a large pepperoni pizza materialized from a cloud of smoke.

"Don't mind if I do!" said Gabriel, pulling up the only other chair to the table.

"What happened?" asked Sam.

Gabriel pointed at the pizza. "Eat now, talk later."

But just as he bit the pizza, wood splintered and Gabriel fell to the floor. Sam snorted.

"Haha very funny," said Gabriel.

He got up from the floor, with the slice of pizza still in hand, and took a large bite. When they finished eating, Sam turned off the television just as _Jeopardy_ was about to start.

"So, what did you find out?" asked Sam.

Gabriel licked his fingers, before wiping his face with a napkin. "Not much," he said. "But what I did find out was not good."

"Ok, so?"

Gabriel looked up at Sam. "Well, I wasn't exactly welcomed back with open arms, if that's what you're asking. I'm lucky to even be here at this point. At any rate, the archangels do believe that the Grimoire is out there, and that someone does have it. Who that person is, no one seems to know."

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and two bottles of Heineken beer appeared on the table. He removed the cap and handed Sam the other unopened beer bottle.

"You?" asked Gabriel.

"Nothing you don't already know. The only texts I did find talked about the contents of the Grimoire."

Gabriel drank out of his bottle, nodding. "But it turns out, the last time the book was ever documented was in Greece, some six thousand years ago," added Sam.

Gabriel set the bottle down. "Like I said."

"Something happened today, though. You know McAllister?" asked Sam, as he unscrewed the cap to the bottle.

Gabriel stopped and glanced up at Sam. "The demon?"

Sam nodded. "Who is he?"

Gabriel frowned. "He was one of Lucifer's most loyal servants."

Sam's face fell; the blood in his veins started to pump a bit faster. "That makes no sense."

"What?"

"Well, Lucifer is back in his cage. So why would McAllister care about helping me?"

Gabriel drank his beer, his face expressionless. "What?"

Sam sighed, staring at his bottle. "He helped me. A group of Crowley's men were outside of the library."

Gabriel shook his head. "Interesting, and he didn't turn you over to them?"

Sam shook his head. "He's still loyal to _him_, I think. He said something about not working for Crowley."

Gabriel stood up and began to pace around the room. "But Crowley is the King of Hell."

"I know."

Gabriel gazed at Sam. "What else happened?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing. He just said he collects debt and took off."

"Huh," said Gabriel. "And that girl with the omega birthmark. Did she show up?"

"What about that girl? What do you know?"

Gabriel pointed to the ceiling. "Not much. They know something though, only they're not talking."

Sam frowned. "But you're—"

"An Archangel, I know. But I abandoned my post. I can't say that I am surprised."

Sam shot up from his seat. "Gabriel, they have to listen to you. The Leviathans are still out there! You heard the tv! We need to find that Grimoire in order to get Dean and Cas out."

Gabriel glared at Sam. "Don't you think I know that?"

"So what now? Should we just sit around and hope the book falls into our lap?"

Sam around and punched the wall, but recoiled. He pressed his fist against his chest. His knuckles were throbbing.

"Tweedledum strikes again," said Gabriel.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sam turned to the door and approached it slowly. He stretched his arm behind his back, and pulled out his gun, which was tucked under his shirt.

"Hey! You got a package, open up!" said a voice.

Sam lowered his gun and opened the door, without removing the security chain. He peered through, and saw the fat, oily manager, with whom he had checked in earlier. He handed Sam a golden manila envelope.

"Thanks," said Sam.

The envelope was addressed to his room, but that was about it. Just as he was about to open it, Gabriel hovered over Sam's shoulder and snatched it out of his hands.

"I was going to open that," said Sam.

Gabriel grinned ignoring Sam and tore open the envelope, pulling out a wrinkled, beige parchment paper. Sam could see that there was writing. Gabriel examined the paper and his eyes widened slightly, as they moved back and forth, reading each line.

"Stay here," said Gabriel.

Gabriel walked to the door and opened it. He stepped out, and closed the door behind him. Sam sat down on the bed and waited for Gabriel to get back. But just as he leaned up against the white headstand, Gabriel came back, locking the door.

"So, what is it?" asked Sam.

Gabriel stared at Sam. "Someone delivered our key to Purgatory. It's a page straight from the Grimoire."


	4. Chapter 4: Long Day's Journey into Night

Chapter Four—Long Day's Journey into Night

Sam held the page from the Grimoire in his hands. His fingers graced the torn edges of the parchment paper. When Sam glimpsed at his hands, he noticed they were trembling. It had been a few days since the page out of the Grimoire was delivered to the hotel room back in Modesto. He and Gabriel had to wait a week, until they found the items needed to open the portal, in order to complete the ceremony by new moon. Gabriel also had to make sure that the page was not cursed, or that it would somehow send him and Sam into Purgatory, without a way out.

Sam was now just outside of Crescent City, California. He and Gabriel had planned to meet in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. He had parked the Impala next to an old fishing warehouse and walked inside, stuffing the page from the Grimoire into his jacket.

When he closed the door behind him, he saw Gabriel standing next to a ring of blue fire. He covered his nose with his hands as cloves, ginger, and wormwood stung Sam's nostrils.

"Sorry, it's just to cleanse the place. Too fishy," said Gabriel.

Sam grimaced. "No worries, so everything ready?"

Gabriel nodded, as he took a knife and cut his arm. He pressed his fingers next to the vein, so that blood would fall to the ground. "Are you sure you want to do this? The Grimoire is unpredictable in the hands of someone, who is not the Guardian."

Sam walked over to the blue ring of fire. "I just want Dean back."

Gabriel took a step back. "Wait. It could be dangerous," said Gabriel. "You go first."

Sam rolled his eyes. "As much as I appreciate the support, you gotta stay here."

"What? Come on Sam, it was a _joke_."

Sam frowned, crossing his arms. "Crowley wants me and Dean dead. For all we know, he or that idiot McAllister could have been the ones to send us the page from the book. It could be a trap."

Gabriel shrugged. "Thanks for your insight, Doctor Zaius. But you need me to make sure your ass doesn't get kicked by whatever boogeyman is roaming in Purgatory."

Sam inhaled and exhaled slowly, shaking his hands out. "Stay back, Gabriel. Please."

"No." said Gabriel.

"We're wasting time, man. Look, just stay back. This might be an ambush."

Gabriel sighed. "I was just kidding."

"Gabriel."

Gabriel scowled and glanced up at Sam. "Fine."

Sam nodded and took a step back before jumping through the blue flames. His body shivered. The flames danced higher towards the ceiling, covering Sam completely; wind began to gather. His chest ached with every cold breath he inhaled. Sam rubbed his hands together, breathing heavily, as his breaths materialized against the blue hues of the flames.

In the background, Sam could hear Gabriel muttering Greek incantations, as the wind began to gather speed. Things began to blur, and the fire slowly covered Sam's surroundings. A gust of wind pushed Sam forward and then back, throwing him face down. Icicles scratched his back. When he got up, he could hear snarls around him, as well as the sound of scattering footsteps.

Sam picked himself up, wiping off the dirt and black leaves that stuck to his clothing. When he finally looked up, he saw the same forest he had seen Dean in. Fog rolled in and out, covering him up to his knees. He glanced over his shoulder, listening to the sounds rattle around him. A pair of red eyes glared back at him.

"Dean?" asked Sam.

To his right, he could hear branches breaking, as well as footsteps walking towards him. Sam grabbed the knife out of his pocket, and held it behind his back.

"Who's there?"

Sam walked forward and saw nothing. "Dean?" he asked again.

"Damn it, Dean. Where the hell are you?" said Sam aloud.

Just then screams hollered in the background, and a white light radiated from the far east of the forest. Sam sprinted towards the light, jumping over dead tree stumps, while trying to ignore the howls that moaned in the background. Sam finally came to the edge of the light, where he saw a group of demons, as well as Dick Roman, standing next to Dean, who was strapped to a tree trunk, blood streaming out of his arms.

"So glad you can join us," said Dick, as he turned to his right.

Sam flinched, as his body flew and collided on the tree next to Dean. Sam coughed and grabbed his ribcage. He looked up at Dean, who was still unconscious.

"Dean," said Sam, biting his lip.

"Such a pity, Crowley will be upset. The Winchesters killed by me. Oh well, he has bigger things to worry about in hell."

Sam glared at Dick. "What?

Dick laughed. "You don't know? Well, I'd hate to ruin the surprise, but this being your death and all, it would be a shame to not let you in on the fun."

A group of demons got Sam up to his feet; someone grabbed Sam by the hair and pulled his face up, baring his neck. Dick took a step forward, with the Weapon in his hands.

"You know how this feels in the neck?" he asked, twirling the bone between his hands.

"Where's Castiel?" asked Sam.

Dick's smile stretched to his ears. "_In hell_. Where he belongs, along with that slut, Meg."

"Speaking of sluts," said a male voice.

Dick twirled around only to find McAllister. He still wore the same torn-up leather jacket, with the exception of his jeans and motorcycle boots.

"McAllister," said Dick. "Aren't you supposed to be on the run?"

McAllister shrugged. A smile stretched across his face. "No fear."

"You forget, I still have a deal with Crowley."

McAllister covered his mouth, mocking Crowley. "Please, sir. Don't call big bad Crowley on me. Alfred, you know the drill. Don't kill the Winchesters."

Just then a group of demons ran into the center, with bowie knives in their hands, and began decapitating everyone around them. McAllister lunged at Dick and grabbed him by the neck, twisting it with his hands, muttering something under his breath. The demons, who held Sam, pushed him to the floor and attacked McAllister.

Sam stood up, picked up the knife from the floor and stabbed the other demons coming after him. But before Sam could attack, what happened to be a Lazarus demon, a loud, radio static-like, high pitched sound wailed and the demons covered their ears, before collapsing onto the floor, their bodies contorted in seizure like movements, before they vanished underneath the blankets of fog.

McAllister turned to Sam. "Get your brother out of here! Now!"

Sam ran towards Dean. He took the knife and cut the rope. Just as he grabbed and supported Dean with his own body, he glanced down at Dean's bloody arms. A spark ignited on both of Dean's arms and healed his wounds.

Sam wrapped Dean's arm over his shoulder. "What about you?" asked Sam.

"I'll put it on your bill."

Sam shook his head and pointed the knife to McAllister's back. "I don't like to take on debt."

McAllister glanced over his shoulder. "Let's just say I lost someone I love, and I want her back."

"What do I have to do with that?" asked Sam.

McAllister grinned. "You'll see."

"Sam?" asked Dean.

Sam glanced back at Dean and looked back at McAllister. He was gone. Sam started walking, dragging Dean away from the fighting. "It's ok, Dean. Come on, just a little further," said Sam, as he helped his brother walk back in the direction, from which he came.

"What?" asked Dean, between breaths.

"Shh…Don't talk," said Sam, as he carried his brother over to the ring of flames. They both waddled over to the flames, and Sam set Dean down to catch his breath. He bent forward and breathed heavily, while Dean struggled to regain consciousness. He flinched and groaned. The wind picked up, and the roof of the warehouse began to materialize above them.

When the winds stopped, Sam dragged Dean out of the fire. The flames slowly dissolved, as the warehouse began to take shape. The lights above Sam's head swung back and forth, someone clapped in the background.

"Congratulations, Sammy. Good show, letting a demon do the hard work for you."

Sam looked up and saw Crowley, with his hands nestled in front of his stomach.

"What do you want? Where's Cas?"

Crowley smiled, as several figures materialized behind him.

"In hell, like Dick said."

Sam reached over to Dean and shook him. Dean's eyes would open and close, and his arms would give out under his own weight. "Dean wake up."

"Purgatory took out a lot from Dean. Now, let's get down to business."

"You and I have unfinished business, Crowley."

Sam tilted his head and saw the girl from Sucro Corp step out of the shadows, with the dagger in her hand. A heavy, black helmet no longer hid her face; her golden brown hair curled down her shoulders, and her dark eyes glared back at Crowley. "Step aside, boys," she said, not looking at Sam or Dean.

"Shoshanna, it's always a pleasure," said Crowley, as he approached Sam.

"The chick has a name?" asked Dean.

Sam glanced back at his brother and helped him up to his feet and then at Shoshanna.

Crowley covered his mouth, sneering. "Sorry, love. Were they not supposed to know your true identity? You really gotta lose the alter ego thing, it's a little too Bruce Wayne, don't you think?"

Shoshanna laughed and smirked, moving around like a tiger about to pounce. Sam and Dean watched her grin disappear, as she waved her hand, and they were simultaneously dragged across the floor. Shoshanna snapped her fingers and one of the pieces of parchment paper, with the red-cross, appeared between her index and middle finger, before she threw it towards Sam and Dean. The paper erupted into red fireworks, and put some sort of shield around Sam and Dean.

"If you want them, you'll have to get through me."

Crowley sniggered, along with the other demons that were next to him. "Please, sweetheart."

Shoshanna glowered. "Afraid?"

Crowley's grin fell. "Jillian, kill this bitch."

Sam watched as Jillian, a blonde curly-haired demon, and several others crept towards Shoshanna, who shoved the dagger back into the scabbard, before lifting the sword by the handle. She took the sword and held it her eye range, as the demons circled her.

"That's the thing about evil, Crowley. You never seem to learn your lesson," said Shoshanna.

Sam walked over to the edge of the red light, which incarcerated him and Dean, and extended his hand. His fingers graced the light and burned the tips of his fingernails. Sam fell backwards and held his hands.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Dean, who shook his head and started to sit up straight.

"What's she doing here?" asked Dean.

"Shoshanna, you know her?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded. "She saved my ass repeatedly in Purgatory."

"What?"

Screams interrupted the two brothers, and they both looked back at Shoshanna, who had just attacked to demons, one of them being Jillian. They screamed and grabbed their limbs, as the wounds from the sword expelled the demons inside. Shoshanna swung the sword around, before taking it and piercing the concrete underneath. The metal did not splinter; instead the floor cracked open and the earth shook underneath them. Sam and Dean looked up towards the ceiling and noticed that the lights swung back and forth like in an earthquake. The few crates left in the warehouse fell to the floor, while the windows shattered around them. Shoshanna held on to the handle of the sword and flinched, as violent winds gathered, sucking up all of the demons, which had possessed someone. Black clouds circled and spun around like a small tornado, before being sucked into the earth.

Dean and Sam glanced over looking for Crowley. But he was no longer there. The concrete sealed itself and Shoshanna removed the sword. She collapsed onto both knees and glimpsed over at Dean and Sam. She breathed heavily and leaned her forehead against the blade of the sword. With a wave of her hand, the shield came off.

"Shoshanna," said Dean, as he stood up straight.

They both approached her, but just as she stood up, she disappeared in small puffs of smoke.

"What the hell was that?" asked Dean.

"Sorry, boys," she said.

Sam and Dean turned around towards the exit, and Shoshanna stood with her helmet on and the sword attached to her back.

"A little illusion trick I like to play."

"Where's Gabriel?" asked Sam.

Dean frowned and grabbed Sam by the shoulder. "What? Gabriel is alive?"

"The Warehouse was empty when I got here, which was not too long after you entered Purgatory, Sam."

"What the hell are you?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna turned around and slammed the door behind her. Sam and Dean ran after her, opened the door and saw her hop on her black bike.

"Dean, watch it! You're not strong enough," said Sam.

Dean ran after Shoshanna, but just as he caught up with her, the bike accelerated. He stopped once he got a close enough look of her license plate. She was from California.

"Damn it," said Dean.

"Dean, are you insane? You _saw_ what she did in there. We don't even know if she can be trusted."

Dean shook his head, before glancing back at Sam. "I know."

Dean and Sam finally checked into a motel, after taking Dean to the hospital. Sam wanted to make sure his brother still didn't have any wounds that needed to be tended to.

"A bed! Oh, thank you thank you!" said Dean, as they walked into the two-bed motel.

He collapsed face down onto the sheets, and nestled his head between the clumpy pillows.

"Dean, you might want to shower, first."

Dean looked up and nodded. "Yeah, right."

Dean grabbed his things, and took out an old, torn up shirt, as well as some blue boxers.

"So, Gabriel's alive huh?" said Dean. "Always liked that guy."

"Yeah, only I'm not sure if we should be worried."

Dean laughed. "It's _Gabriel_."

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, but he went back to Heaven."

"What?" asked Dean, as his belongings fell to the floor.

"Yeah, he went back to get information on you and Cas."

"I can't believe Cas is in hell," said Dean.

Sam fell on his bed. "We need to get him out."

"First thing's first," said Dean. "We need to find out what Buffy the Vampire Slayer is up to."

Sam looked up at him. "How did you know about her?"

Dean bent down and picked up his things. He stopped, unsure.

"She saved my life."

Sam sat up. "She also knows things about us. What exactly, I have no idea."

"Yeah, that's what worries me."

"Do you think we can trust her to not come after us? I mean, she did help us after all."

Dean shrugged. "Dunno. I'm gonna hit the shower man and then the sack. I suggest you do the same."

13


	5. Chapter 5: Hecate's Wheel

Chapter Five-Hecate's Wheel

"God is the only one who can send the Leviathan back to Purgatory" said Sam, glancing over at Dean.

Dean kept his eyes on the road. "Awesome."

Dean didn't say much. He would study Sam every now and then, but for the most part was quiet. Sam on the other hand shifted from side to side in his seat, and opened the large, green and blue map, and then closing it before looking at Dean.

"So are you ever going to talk about Purgatory?"

Dean scowled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I'm driving, Sam."

Sam shook his head and sighed. "Will you tell me at least how Shoshanna saved you?"

Dean shrugged. "What's there to say. She saved my life. That's it."

He stepped on the gas and accelerated back onto the highway. He stared at the road, which was foggy, and slightly rainy. He turned his windshield wipers on and adjusted his headlights, and continued to speed.

"So what's this case we're going to work on? Shouldn't we be looking for a way to send the rest of the Leviathan back to Purgatory?" asked Sam, who once again opened up a map of the state of Louisiana.

"Well that good-for nothing weapon didn't help us, and according to you and Gabriel, the big Mac Daddy in the sky is the only one who can send them back to purgatory," said Dean, not staring at Sam. "Call me a pessimist, but I don't think he'll be helping us anytime soon."

Sam sighed, throwing the map over his shoulder. "Why don't we look for the Grimoire?"

Dean scoffed. "Unless that page is some sort of magnet that will vibrate or float on air when the Grimoire is close, I don't see how we can find it."

"Hey boys," said a voice behind them.

"_Damn it_." Dean steered the car to the left, and the car in the lane next to them honked. Dean flipped the driver off before glancing into the rearview mirror. Gabriel sat behind him, his legs stretched out on the backseat, and had a candy bar in his hands.

"No chocolate on the upholstery!"

Gabriel stuck his tongue out. "Touchy."

Sam shook his head, and turned around to face Gabriel.

"Don't do that again. We could've—" said Sam.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, as he peeled the wrapper off like a banana. "Gotten killed. Yeah, yeah, save it."

"So, where have you been?" asked Sam, studying Gabriel.

He didn't look different. The only thing that Sam did notice were a few scars near his temples, and a bruise on his left eye, which had somewhat-healed. Gabriel took a bite out of his candy bar, and licked his fingers. "Here and there."

"_Gabriel_."

Gabriel scoffed. "I was sent to look for the Grimoire just as you jumped on the loopy train to Purgatory land. By the by….Good to have you back, Dean."

Dean sneered in the mirror. "Right back at ya."

"Anyhoo. No trail. Nada. That page came out of thin air. Seems like you boys have a guardian angel, or fairy godmother or something."

Sam bit his lip. "What about Shoshanna?" he asked.

Dean pressed on the gas. "What _about_ Shoshanna?"

Gabriel and Sam exchanged glances. "I mean, she's saved our asses back in Crescent City, and she helped keep you alive in Purgatory. It is possible that she could be the Guardian of the Grimoire."

Gabriel shoved the last piece of the bar into his mouth. "Shoshanna is the motor bike, chick, right?" he asked, between chews.

Sam nodded. "Well, I could go sneak around, get someone to say something. But I've mentioned her and no one seems to know who she is, or is unwilling to admit it," said Gabriel.

Sam stared as Gabriel continued to devour the chocolate bar. "Shouldn't you stay away from those things cos of Sucro Corp?"

Gabriel laughed. "Please. This is German chocolate, all of the crap stuffed by Sucro Corp and family is illegal in the EU. I'll go check up on that Shoshanna girl."

With that Gabriel disappeared. Sam stared at Dean, who did not gaze back.

* * *

They finally drove passed the French Quarter around daybreak. The streets were empty, except for the one or two paperboys, and trucks that unloaded fresh quantities of bread or soft drinks to the restaurants. Several buildings were up for lease, warnings regarding reconstruction, as well as a few homeless, leaning against buildings, their heads nestled between their knees—signs that Hurricane Katrina had left behind.

Dean's eyes moved back and forth, as he slowly drove down the streets of the French Quarter. It was like they were driving through the streets of Paris almost, without the construction teams in helmet hats, or the massive amounts of steel, that blocked off an entire alleyway.

"So what are we doing here exactly?" asked Sam.

Dean glanced around and yawned, and when they came to a stoplight, Dean stretched his arms. "There are a rising number of chicks being pulled into the hospital. They're anemic when they check in, and by the end of the week they age anywhere from 20 to 80, just before they kick the bucket."

Sam frowned. "Do you have any articles?"

Dean glared and pointed behind him. "Should be in my bag somewhere."

Sam laughed. "What?" asked Dean.

"You have a murse."

Dean smirked, mocking Sam. "_You have a murse_. Check the bag, will ya?"

Sam grinned and pulled out the World News article. As he read through the article, he came to a stop.

"Did you hear about the bodies that were found?" he asked.

Dean parked the car. "What bodies?"

Sam folded the crinkly, gray paper and held the paper up in the sunlight. "Local authorities also found other bodies at the scene where the Julie Bowman was found, and according to the corner's office they were mutilated some hours before," said Sam.

* * *

When they got to the hospital, they were in business suits, and strolled in like they normally would and met with the Chief of Medicine Dr. Krueger, a tall man with pepper hair, and tired, old blue eyes. Sam followed him into Intensive Care, where the victims were being observed and handled, while Dean sat out near registration. He paced back and forth in the white and blue room, while nurses and doctors in white or green scrubs walked passed him. Dean finally sat down on an old, blue corduroy chair and watched the morning news.

He initially dismissed it and pulled out his phone, and stared to press the keys, until he thought he heard the name Shoshanna mentioned. He walked over to the red-head nurse near registration.

He winked at her and smiled. "Could you turn it up please? I'd appreciate it."

The nurse nodded and reached for the remote, which lay hidden underneath a stack of manila folders, while Dean stepped towards the television. There were images of Shoshanna, who had traded in her leather jacket, denim jeans, and boots, for sleek business slacks, a black blazer, a chic white blouse, and a pendant necklace in the shape of a star, with a white stone in the middle.

"I've seen that before," thought Dean. He knew that he hadn't seen her wear it in Purgatory, but he remembered seeing it somewhere… He studied the screen and read the headlines, which read: WORLD INDUSTRIES outbids SUCRO CORP in multi-million dollar merger. SHOSHANNA MOREAU-GUILLÉN, CEO and HEIRESS to WORLD INDUSTRIES, will speak.

The camera did a close up, and Dean watched intensely, as Shoshanna walked up to a podium, in front of various reporters.

Shoshanna smiled and spoke into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my honor and privilege to announce that Cane Corp will stay in business. I know I speak for my company, as well as my godfather, when I say that he would have been proud of such a partnership. This merger will keep thousands of jobs on the market, expand World Industries across the country."

As reporters waved their hands in the air for questions, screams hollered behind Dean. Dean turned around and saw Sam fly out of the black, double doors, which lead to the ICU, and fell on his face.

"Dean," yelled Sam.

Dean ran towards him, as various doctors and nurses ran out, screaming, almost trampling Sam and Dean in the process. He couldn't move. Dean grabbed his arm to help him up, but was electrocuted and recoiled back.

"Leviathan," said Sam.

Dean ran into the ICU, and turned into the first room to his left. He saw a red-haired man, slightly younger than Sam, hovering over the latest victim, a dark haired and dark skinned woman by the name of Julie. There was blood all over the bed. Dean flinched not wanting to know what body part had been bitten off.

"Where is it," he yelled.

Dean inched forward. "Hey, douchebag," warned Dean, pulling his gun out.

"Dean," he said, lowering his knife. "So we meet officially. The name's Paul. Heard you were running around my hometown, too bad you couldn't stay for the pie."

Dean took a step closer. "Step away from her."

Paul grinned. "Who? Her? You don't want her alive, trust. I'm just trying to help."

Dean shook his head. "I call bull. A threat to you or Crowley is one more ally for me."

Paul clapped, laughing. "Don't make my stomachs turn. Crowley is a nobody."

Dean frowned, lowering the gun. Amidst the blood on the sheets and decapitated body, a cloud of smoke gathered, and revealed Julie's face. Her body was drenched in blood from the neck down. Her dark eyelids fluttered open and she grabbed Paul by the arm knocking him to the floor. She tugged at the wires that were attached to her body. She shot up from the bed and grinned at Dean, before Dean felt himself pushed backwards.

"Hecate will be pleased," said Julie.

Dean looked up and saw Julie grab Paul's knife. She tip toed over to Dean, who couldn't move his body. The left side of his face and his torso were glued to the floor, as though he were a magnet.

"I'm sure Crowley will be upset to see this Leviathan and you dead. It'll send a message," she said, bending down towards Dean.

She stroked Dean's head with the tip of the knife. Dean saw a symbol tattooed on her wrist: a circle, with a small five-pointed star in the middle, which was surrounded by a maze-like design lined by serpents. Just as she was about to lift Dean's head from the floor, a gunshot rang behind Dean. Julie screeched and ran down the hall, away from Paul and Dean, with the hospital gown flapping behind her. She jumped out of the window. Dean looked up and saw Sam run after her. He pointed the gun out the window and watched her run down the street, leaping over cars, like an animal.

Sam walked back to Dean who started to get up. "What took you so long?" asked Dean.

"She had Sammy under a spell. I should run before the real cops get here," said Paul.

"Who is she? What was she?" asked Sam.

Paul scoffed. "I thought you would know, Sam. _If only you had a brain_. You should probably go to Oz for that."

Dean stood up and met Paul scowl. "Catch you on the flipside," he said, walking away.

"What the hell just happened?" asked Dean.

"Why would the Leviathan or Crowley want her dead?"

Dean shrugged. "Who the hell is Hecate?"

* * *

Sam and Dean returned to the motel later that day, after Xeroxing several pages from the library. Dean had found the symbol in various textbooks. It was dark and musky, but had a small kitchenette with functioning stove from the 1950s, fridge, and pea-soup carpet, which clashed with the yellow and brown bed sheets, and red pillows.

"Hecate's Wheel," said Dean, throwing the Xerox copies onto the table.

Sam glanced over his shoulder, as he peeled a few carrots.

"It's a symbol that is an emblem of Hecate's triple aspect, whatever that means. Anyways," said Dean, as he sat down and opened his bottle of water. "It seems we're dealing with the goddess of witchcraft and destruction, who can open the portal to the underworld—what the _hell_ are you doing?"

Sam shrugged. "Cooking dinner."

Dean sniggered. "Nice going, Rachel Ray."

Sam set down the knives and walked over to Dean. "So what does the girl, Crowley, and the Leviathan have to do with Hecate?"

Dean shrugged. "Not entirely sure. That girl seems to be part of some crazy fan club."

Sam walked over to his bed and pulled out a large, brown, leather bound book. When he set it on the table, it released dust into the air. Dean coughed.

"That thing doesn't have mold, does it?"

Sam opened the book, and covered his mouth. "It shouldn't."

"I hate mold," said Dean, and leaned in a bit closer towards the book.

"I didn't come up with anything different," he said, flipping through the book.

"What could the Leviathan be looking for? And why would a cult member know about it—whatever it is?" asked Dean.

Sam studied the text. "I'm not sure. But whatever it is they must need it, and fast."


	6. Chapter 6: Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter Six—Dark Side of the Moon

"Shoshanna's a trust fund baby," said Dean, as he took out several new bullets and inserted them one by one into his gun.

Sam smiled as he typed away rapidly on his laptop, not looking at Dean. "According to CNN she's could put Sucro Corp out of business."

Dean clapped his hands. "_Woopie_. Remind me to send her a thank you card."

Sam laughed. "It's really bugging you isn't it?"

Dean glanced up at Sam. "What else do we know about Hecate?"

Sam grabbed his laptop. He sat on the wobbly twin bed next to Dean and handed him the computer.

"Other than the fact that she can set hell on earth, travel between this life and the afterlife, not much. I did find something out about the wheel. It's traditionally used by wiccan's, but it is also a symbol her children use."

Dean's eyebrow shot up to his forehead, his eyes scanned the computer as he dragged the page down. "Children?"

Sam sighed, nodding. "They're her army so to speak."

Dean got up and began to pace. "_Julie_. But that still doesn't explain why the others died, nor what they were doing there before they were killed."

Sam rested his elbows on his legs and bent forward, staring at Dean. "All of them had the same tattoo on their wrists like Julie. According to texts, their sacrifice would bring about her resurrection."

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Ok, so what if they are. What does that mean for Crowley and the Leviathan? What do they have to do with this?"

Sam grabbed his backpack and pillaged through it, looking for a book. "Maybe Crowley's afraid that his days as the King of Hell are over."

Dean sat down across from his brother. "True. So what is it that they're looking for?"

Sam shrugged. "Could be anything. But I don't think it's a coincidence we're dealing with the Grimoire."

"Jesus Christ," said Dean, rolling his eyes.

"_Watch it_."

Dean observed the dark room and saw Gabriel standing in the corner, his face half-hidden by the shadow. Dean noticed Gabriel's demeanor had changed. The cocky smirk on his face had disappeared and the sarcastic glitter in his eyes had faded. He noted the wrinkles on his forehead, and his hair was slightly darker. Gabriel looked older, somehow.

"So? What did you find out?" asked Sam.

Gabriel tilted his head, not smiling. "Nice to see you, too."

Sam grimaced. "Sorry."

"So?" asked Dean.

Gabriel took a deep breath. "I'm here to help you with what's going on," he said, approaching the brothers.

Dean frowned. "What the hell?"

Gabriel groaned. "Look Perry Mason, we have bigger problems to deal with."

Sam got up and walked over to the dimly lit, yellow and brown kitchenette. He reached for the mini-fridge and tugged at the handle. Pulling it too hard, he tore the handle off from the fridge. Dean and Gabriel stared at him. Sam peered over his shoulder and smiled weakly. He opened the fridge and grabbed a few bottled waters, and tossed them at Dean and Gabriel.

"So, what is Hecate up to?" asked Sam.

Gabriel sat down and twisted the cap to the bottle. "It's not what she's up to. It's what her children are doing. They're trying to set her free."

Dean chugged his water and drank it all in one gulp. He pounded his chest with his fist and burped. "Free from where?"

Gabriel studied his hands. "She's been dormant since the creation of the Grimoire."

"So what is this Apocalypse Redux?" asked Dean.

Gabriel sniggered. "We suspect that they're trying to start a coup."

"Coup?" asked Dean.

Sam sat down next to Dean. "They're trying to overthrow Crowley and take control of hell for themselves. But to bring her back, they need the book. The key to _power_ lies within the Guardian _and_ the Grimoire."

Dean nodded. "The bodies."

"What bodies?" asked Gabriel.

"The bodies that were found with the victims. They must've been Crowley's cronies."

Gabriel nodded. "Call this a hunch. But if we're right, this can get out of control and a war will break out on earth."

Sam took a deep breath. "What about the Leviathan?"

"Crowley betrayed Dick remember? I suspect, they're trying to get in the action themselves," said Dean.

Gabriel buried his face with his hands. "Ok, listen. I need to go in search of the Guardian and Grimoire. While they may be capable of taking care of themselves, I suspect we'll need their help at one point."

"Is it Shoshanna?" asked Sam.

Dean and Sam gazed at Gabriel, whose face remained blank. There was a certain sadness that stretched across his face. His eyes began to water, and so he turned his head away. "Whoever the Guardian is, they are in danger."

Sam got up and studied Gabriel. "What _aren't_ you telling us?"

Gabriel turned to walk away. "Scream if you need me."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks, as Gabriel disappeared behind the shadows in the far corner of their motel room.

* * *

The next day, Sam and Dean drove to Julie's house in Algiers, which was still kept under police surveillance, especially after the attack at the hospital. They walked up to a small, pink house, with a few flowerpots that sat on top of a white porch. Yellow police tape covered the entrance. Dean and Sam showed their credentials and walked passed a police officer, and stepped into a grey living room.

There was a small white fireplace, which supported several black candles, a dried up lily, all underneath a portrait of Hecate's Wheel.

"Freak," said Dean, as he pulled out his EMF reader.

Sam walked into a yellow kitchen, which was covered in dried blood, as well as white outlines of where the bodies were found. Blood was splattered on the walls, and covered the white cupboards and an antique pea-green fridge.

"Dean," said Sam.

Dean walked into the kitchen and covered his nose, scowling.

"Anything?" he asked.

Dean nodded. "The reader was going crazy. There is some major hoodoo going on in this place."

Sam looked around. "Is it me, or is Gabriel hiding something from us?"

Dean peered up at Sam. "So what if he didn't talk."

Sam nodded, walking over to the sink. "Yeah, but if there is a war that's going to break out on Earth, I think we should be in the know."

Dean surveyed the kitchen. "Have you ever thought that maybe God doesn't want him to speak?"

Sam turned around, frowning. "Are you defending God?"

Dean sniggered. "_No_. Just saying. With Michael and Raphael gone, Gabriel is the only archangel left. I'd imagine that there are expectations he has to meet. Lucky us."

Sam nodded. "I'll go check her room."

He walked through the hallway and pushed open the first door to his right, which happened to be a red and white bathroom, with a porcelain tub. Sam approached the next door, which opened up to a grey room. There was a four-poster bed, with no sheets. He focused on the ebony wooden floor.

"Dean, you gotta look at this."

Sam bent forward and studied Hecate's Wheel at the center of the room. It had been painted onto the wooden planks with black paint. He approached the bed; the floor beneath him creaked. He stopped, his body wobbling in place. He bent forward and graced the floor with his fingers. The plank was a compartment.

"Dean," said Sam.

He removed the piece of wood. Inside, he found a small, shoebox with newspaper clippings and photographs. The newspaper clippings were of Shoshanna and World Industries, and each city in which she was in was underlined with a bright red marker. But there were other pictures of him and Dean.

"They're after Shoshanna, Dean and me," said Sam.

He heard footsteps echo in the hallway, and turned only to see Julie Bowman standing next to the door.

"Good job, Sammy," she said, walking towards him.

The door to her room slammed shut. All Sam could hear was Dean's screams in the background and the pounding on the door. Sam fell to the floor, as pressure build up against his temple, crushing his face onto the wooden floor. She hovered over him, before kicking him in the head.

Dean ran into the door to little avail.

"Sam, hang on. I'm coming," said Dean. He took a step back and slammed into the door. He landed face down, but as he got up, he watched as Sam and Julie disappeared under a cloud of smoke.

"If you want to see your brother again, you'll bring me the Grimoire. Come to Audubon Park at midnight. Be late and little Sammy will pay the price."

* * *

"Gabriel," said Dean with his eyes closed. "I know you can hear me damn it, so why aren't you helping me?"

He was back in his motel room. He glanced around, waiting for Gabriel to materialize out of the dark corners of the room.

"I said scream, not whisper," said Gabriel.

Dean turned around and saw Gabriel dressed in a business suit.

"What's with the suit?" he asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Dad made me wear it."

Dean laughed. "Since when do you take orders from the big guy upstairs?"

Gabriel scowled. "There are expectations."

Dean took a step back and raised his hands up to his chest in defeat. "Ok, ok. Sorry, I asked. Did you find the book?"

Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag filled with gummy bears. He pulled a red one out and chucked it into his mouth. "You want?"

Dean shrugged. "Oh what the hell." He grabbed a handful and stuffed them into his mouth. "Anyways. I need your help. Sam was taken and if I don't find the Grimoire—"

Gabriel laughed. "What makes you think I found the Grimoire?"

Dean's face fell. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Gabriel stuffed the rainbow assortment of gummy bears back into his pocket. He snapped his fingers and a leather bound book appeared in his hands.

"It's a decoy. But it should buy you enough time to get Sam. But," he said, grabbing the book as it hovered in the air. "You'll need to trap Julie. We'll need her for questioning."

Dean grabbed the heavy leather bound book. "How will we know that she won't know it's a fake?"

Gabriel shrugged. "It has some sort of freaky Friday enchantment."

* * *

Around midnight, Dean pulled up to Audubon Park with his Impala. The park was completely empty, with the exception of the large trees, and Spanish moss that hung from the branches, and danced in the wind, giving them a snake-like affect. As he walked away from his car, the lights behind him dimmed.

"Julie," he said. "I have the book. Where the hell are you?"

"Dean," said Sam.

Dean stared straight ahead. There was a large white gazebo, and Sam stood in the center, tied up. Dean ran towards Sam, but just as he was about to climb the white, wooden steps, a white light radiated in front of him. A gust of wind gathered and sent Dean flying into the air. He landed on his back.

Coughing, he rolled to his side and got up slowly.

"The Grimoire first," said Julie. She pulled up from the side of the gazebo. She was dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket, and her dark curls were pulled up into a ponytail. Dean got up, pulled his backpack up from the ground and opened it, revealing the fake Grimoire. The gold letter text glittered, illuminating the inside lining of the black bag.

Julie's eyes grew wide, and her lips stretched into a contorted, wicked smile. Dean gave her the bag. She waved her arm behind her, and the force field came down. Dean ran over to Sam. He bent down towards him and pulled out a pocketknife and cut the rope, that bound his brother's hands together.

"How'd you find the book?" asked Sam.

"Questions later," said Dean.

They both got up and walked away from the gazebo. They gawked at Julie, who had the fake book in her arms. But just as she opened it the book fell out of her hands, and she collapsed.

"Gabriel?" asked Sam.

There was rustling in the bushes behind them. Sam turned around and Sam noted Gabriel, as he walked over towards them. He had his sword in hand.

"Step aside boys," said Gabriel, rolling up his sleeves.

Sam and Dean took a step back as Gabriel bent down. He pointed the tip of the sword at Julie's head. Julie's eyes widened, as sweat glistened on her skin.

"You don't scare me, angel," she said.

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe not," he said, but then cut her arm with the blade of his sword. She screamed and curled up into a ball.

"Damn you, Gabriel," she said, scowling.

"What do you want with the Grimoire?" he asked.

Julie laughed. "I suspect you know that already," she said. "Question is, can you idiots find it before any of my brothers or sisters, or even Crowley or the Leviathan find it."

Gabriel gazed at Julie. "So, it's true then."

Julie laughed. "Every word and we're winning. While you're here wasting your time, that _sweet, little_ Guardian is being tracked. Are you sure you don't want to intervene even a little bit considering your history?"

Gabriel took his sword and stabbed Julie in the stomach. She screamed, as her body erupted into flames. Gabriel got back onto his feet, avoiding Dean and Sam's glances.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Dean.

Gabriel pulled out a white handkerchief and cleaned the blade of blood. Red smeared onto the cloth.

"You boys need to head down to Charleston pronto."

With that Gabriel turned around and disappeared behind the trees.

"Gabriel," said Sam, running after him.

But it was too late; Gabriel was gone. Sam turned around and stared at Dean, who shook his head. Dean sighed.

"What the hell is going on?"


	7. Chapter 7: Soul Eaters

A/N: First off, I'd like to thank you guys again for all the love and support! I really do appreciate it. That being said, I do have some news. Some of you know that I am starting the MFA Program in Writing in the fall, which requires me to have 30-40 pages of a manuscript before school starts. While the task is doable, it will be cutting into my dedication and time to this story. As such, this is only a warning. I will continue to write it and hopefully complete it, but if I don't post for weeks at a time, it is because the manuscript is taking precedence in my life. :(

Anyhoo, hope you guys enjoy the latest chapter. Thanks for the love and support!

Xoxox

* * *

Chapter Seven—Soul Eaters

The boys arrived in Charleston and checked into a small inn. After getting settled, they decided to walk to the police station. Seagulls flew over their heads, and the light breeze rocked the palm trees back and forth, knocking into the random oak tree branches that sprouted randomly in between the beach ecosystem. The architecture matched that of New Orleans, but had a richer, more southern inspired air to it. Each building was of a different color, and the center of town was like the emerald city, in that the trees, flowers and grass were a bright sea green.

"Things look pretty normal to me," said Dean. "What did you find on Charleston?"

Sam sighed, pulling his hair back. "People are being attacked at night."

"Seems normal for a big city," said Dean, as he grabbed his own collar and fanned himself. Sweat trickled down his temple, as he reached into his pocket and put on a pair of sunglasses.

Sam looked at him. "Normally, yes. But victims are attacked in their sleep and they wake up not knowing who or where they are."

Dean stopped in front of a large fence, which barred a large grey building, with roman columns, and a flagpole, which held the state flag as well as the American one. "Has anyone been killed?"

Sam glanced inside. "One person. A child, I think."

Dean nodded and opened the door to the main entrance. There were high white ceilings, and large fans, which swayed to and fro. Various officers clad in navy blue raced back and forth, talking to one another. Dean and Sam pulled out their FBI badges, showing it to a black man, who came up to them.

"Are you the chief?" asked Dean.

The man nodded. "Andrew Jameson. And you are?"

Dean stuck his hand out to shake his. "I'm Agent Willis and this is Agent McCarthy, we're here about the—"

Agent Jameson sighed and scratched his scalp. "Attacks? Follow me," said Andrew, turning around.

They walked through the brown and beige halls, fans blasted air in their direction as they passed by. They entered a small office and sat down in two leather chairs, which sat in front of a large, mahogany desk. Dean glanced at the walls and saw all of the pictures of previous chiefs of police.

Andrew closed the door, before he approached his desk and sat down, folding his hands.

"So what do you want to know?" he asked.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. "Are all the cases the same?"

"Would you like some water?" asked Andrew, as he picked up his phone. "The weather is brutal."

"Yeah, sure," said Dean, leaning up against his chair.

Andrew ordered three waters before hanging up. "Pretty much. From what we can tell, the victims are beaten to a pulp."

Sam scribbled things down onto the small piece of paper in front of him. "There's only been one fatality, right? What do the doctors say, are the beatings grounds enough for someone to have temporary memory loss?" asked Dean.

Andrew leaned back and shook his head. "That's just it. The beatings are not brutal enough to inflict that kind of damage, at least that's what the neurologists at the hospital are saying."

An officer came in with three, chilled water bottles, and handed one to Dean, Sam, and Andrew.

Dean frowned, as he reached out for water. "What other symptoms are the victims experiencing?"

Andrew pulled out a handkerchief out of his front pocket and wiped his forehead. "Post traumatic shock. They're pulled into the hospitals, raving about some animal or creature…saying that it took their heart, or something."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "But they have them right?" asked Sam.

Andrew sipped his water. "Their tickers? Of course."

Dean opened his bottled water and took a large sip. "Thank you for your time officer, but I think it'd be best, if we went to the hospital, see if we can talk to the victims."

"Very well. But, if the doctors haven't let us talk to 'em, I doubt, they'll be of much surface to you. Good luck."

As Dean and Sam stepped out of the police station, Dean pressed the bottle to his forehead.

"We need to talk to Gabriel," said Dean.

* * *

Dean and Sam shopped for some food only to arrive to an air-conditioned room. "Thank you, thank you," said Dean, walking to the AC and pulling off his blazer. He loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes. He walked over to the window and closed the curtains to keep the sunlight out.

"I might just go to the beach later and just sleep in the water," said Sam, as he pulled out the lettuce, tomatoes and avocadoes from the brown bag.

He then tore off his blazer and tossed it over to his bed. "Man, can you imagine? Losing everything."

"Yeah, tragic. _Gabriel_," said Dean, as he glanced up at the ceiling.

Sam frowned. "I mean, we've seen a lot. Starting off on a clean slate wouldn't be bad, but the good. It'd be like there's a hole where your heart should be, you know?"

"Gabriel, damn it get down here now," said Dean, clenching his fists.

"Watch your tone, man. Heard those archangels are dicks."

Dean peered over his shoulder and saw McAllister standing behind him. He wore a white beach shirt, and some short khakis and sandals.

"What the hell do you want?" asked Dean, as his hand moved towards his gun.

McAllister grinned. "Oh come off it. Demons just wanna have fun."

Sam walked away from the kitchenette. "What are you doing here?" asked Sam.

McAllister flailed his arms mockingly. "Just here to help. 'Tis all."

Sam shook his head and turned away, as Dean, who sat down on the bed, shifted back and forth and pressed his hands on the mattress.

"Mattress feels awesome," said Dean, pointing at the white twin bed.

Sam huffed. "Dean not now. Look, McAllister. No offence, man. How do we know that you're not behind all of this?"

McAllister's demeanor shifted. He no longer smirked. Instead, his smile pursed up into a scowl and his eyes darkened. "It has to do with the Guardian, and from what I hear, that little angel on your shoulders isn't being of much help."

Sam's eyes widened. "You know who it is," said Sam.

McAllister walked over to one of the twin beds and sat down. "Something happened to the Guardian. Long ago... But what happened to her, has to do with what's happening in Charleston."

Dean glanced at Sam. "So _she_ was mugged and suffered total memory loss?" asked Dean.

"Soul eaters," said McAllister, as he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He shoved one into his mouth and snapped his fingers, lighting it with his fingertips. "You're dealing with Soul Eaters, nasty bastards."

"Soul eaters, of course," said Dean, nodding.

He glanced at Sam, who merely rolled his eyes. "What the hell is a soul eater?" asked Dean.

"And the Great and Powerful Oz strikes again," said McAllister, tilting his head towards Dean.

Sam took a deep breath. "Guys, knock it off. What is a soul eater?"

McAllister sighed, scratching his chin. "Just that. They go in, and eat a human's heart."

"But there has only been one fatality," said Sam, as he sat down next to him.

"Thank you for your insightful analysis, Dr. Literal," he said, and took a drag from his cigarette, before he formed large smoke circles. "But the heart is the core of a person's soul. Ancient Egyptians believed it was the key to a person's humanity. It stores memories, feelings—the human experience. Everything that makes one human—the good and the _bad_."

Dean leaned back and waved the smoke away from his face. "Ok, so what would a soul eater want with the heart?" asked Dean.

McAllister shrugged. "Normally, they would just eat it. Keeps 'em alive. But there's been a shift in power in hell."

Sam coughed as he inhaled the smoke. "Meaning? Can you put that out?" asked Sam, scowling.

McAllister huffed and put the cigarette out on his knee. "Hecate's Children have made a move. And unless I am mistaken, I think _we_ have grounds to believe that Soul Eaters have taken Hecate's side, and are giving her hearts, as means to bring her back to life."

"How can you be sure?" asked Dean. "Maybe they're just hungry, and don't wanna have any of that sucro corp crap."

McAllister sighed, throwing his arms up in the air. "Just find Shoshanna, she can help you."

"Wait, so where does this leave the victims?" asked Sam.

McAllister shrugged. "Without a heart, humans will die, as their soul begins to fragment and lose hope."

* * *

"We need to find Gabriel," said Sam.

Dean tilted to his head to the right, just as they came up to the cathedral. Dean put the car in park. They spent a good hour in the outskirts of town, and were back in the historic district to monitor any suspicious behavior. The roads were extra slick that night. Even though it was cloudy and rainy, the full moon still lit the black road ahead of them.

"You caught on fast," said Dean.

Sam frowned. He shifted in the seat and turned to Dean, pulling the seat belt over and away from his neck.

"Gabriel is upset about something. Maybe that's why he didn't respond," he said.

Dean scowled, as his eyes darted back and forth to the rearview mirror. "He's also a cheeky bastard. Like him. But cheeky."

Sam nodded; his eyes watched the road. "Remember New Orleans? What do you think Julie meant by his history?" Sam ran his hands through his long mane of hair.

Dean studied the streets. "I dunno, but whatever his problem is he better get over it fast."

There were two bright dots ahead: one red, one blue. The lights flickered on and off. There were also flares that erupted orange and were laid on the street. Dean turned on the car and pulled the car forward. As they got closer, a police officer waved his arms in the air. Dean slowed down and put the car in park.

He stepped out of the car, as fog began to crawl onto the highway.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Dean.

The officer, who was dressed in a navy blue uniform tilted his head towards him and smirked. His dark eyes glittered underneath the orange emergency flare. Dean's glowered. He recognized the man from the hospital. He was the one he and Sam had seen raving like a madman. Without warning, Dean fell backwards and landed on his face.

Sam pulled his gun out and ran over. "Dean," said Sam, as he approached Dean.

Sam's legs collapsed and he fell to his knees, while Dean's eyelids closed. He shook his head and breathed heavily. Sam pulled his head up, as to see who was attacking them. He saw a woman in her mid thirties, with long, black hair and dark eyes, come from behind the officer, who reached into his pocket and handed Hecate what seemed to be a spherical ball of blue light. Hecate grinned like the Cheshire Cat as she cupped the light between her two hands, before she shoved it into her mouth.

"Hecate," said Sam.

Hecate smirked, tossing her long strands of hair behind her. "Sam, I'm honored."

She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She looked more awake, powerful. In the distance, you could hear the sound of marching feet, drumming down the highway towards them. Sam glowered.

Sam glanced over at Dean, who was on all fours, coughing. Blood squirted out of his mouth.

"Let him go," said Sam, as blood trickled out of his nostrils.

Hecate shook her head and walked over to Dean. She grabbed him by the top of the head, tugging at Dean's hair.

"I'm not here for you," said Hecate. "But I just can't pass up the chance. The soul eaters will do you in just like Shoshanna."

"What?" said Dean, squinting. He clenched his jaw, as Hecate ran her long fingernails down his face.

Hecate helped Dean up to his knees, before she kicked Dean in the stomach. Thunder exploded in the background and the highway glittered under the flashes of lightning that erupted behind them.

"From the looks of it, we won't have to wait that long," said Hecate, as she motioned her subordinates towards Sam and Dean.

Just then arrows flew out of the darkness. Hecate and the others ran to the sides, as various people appeared in the middle of the highway.

"Crowley," said Hecate. She stumbled and leaned against the police car, her dark face illuminated by the red and blue lights.

"If anyone gets their hands on the Guardian, it's going to be me, sweetheart," said Crowley.

Sam and Dean looked around, and saw a dark figure move around in the shadows. Bushes rustled behind them.

"Don't just stand there you fool," she yelled, as the officer walked around her and pulled his gun out.

Screams wailed in the darkness, as the dark figures went after Hecate and the others. Sam and Dean felt the pressure lessen on their bodies, and were able to sit on their knees.

"What the hell?" asked Dean.

"Hello boys. You like my army?" said a male voice.

To their right stood Crowley, dressed in the same all-black suit, as he watched with his arms crossed. Dean and Sam reached for their guns and pointed them at Crowley, who merely laughed.

"Do we have to go through this again?" he asked.

Without warning, Sam and Dean flew backwards. They collided with a traffic light. Dean sat up and leaned to the right, he was covered entirely with mud and grass. He shook his arms off, as fresh mud dripped from his arms and legs. As he got up, his legs wobbled to and fro, as though he were drunk. Just then, a light fell from the sky. Dean flinched—unsure, whether it was a lightning bolt.

"Come on, Sam. Wake up," said Dean.

Dean got up, looking for his gun in the grass and mud. Just as he stood up, with the gun in his hands, he felt something pierce through his right shoulder.

"Dean," yelled Sam.

Dean looked over at his chest and saw an arrow sticking out of his chest. He fell to his knees, as the steel burned his chest, before he passed out.


	8. Chapter 8: Lonely Shepherd pt 1

**A/N**: _WARNING_. This is going to be a long chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter Eight—The Lonely Shepherd and Brown-Haired Warrior

Loud purring vibrated against his chest. Dean turned his head and his eyes opened slightly. There was a black cat with a long coat sitting on top of him. When Dean sat up on the bed, it rolled off of his chest and growled. He turned and saw an elderly woman, dressed in a conservative, white blouse and a navy blue skirt, and Sam, who sat in a chair next to him with his eyes closed; the woman nudged him slightly, and when Sam woke up he leapt out of his chair.

"Dean," he said as he pulled the chair closer to the bed.

Dean cringed and exhaled deeply. "What the hell happened? Why was that cat on top of me?" he asked.

He stared at the elderly woman, whose white hair was pinned into an elegant French bun, as she turned around and smiled. Her blue eyes shone against the white, chiffon curtains. She opened two double doors. The smell of the salty sea blew into the room.

"Master Dean," she said, bowing. "We were wondering, when you'd wake. Sorry, that would be the Mistress' cat. I'll get it out of your room, if you wish."

Dean sat up. He eyed his chest, which had large bandages, as well as strands of cat black hair. There were a few white petals, which were dry and crinkled. He looked down at the cat, who hissed and merely sprang off the bed and hid behind Svetlana's legs.

"Dean, relax we're safe," said Sam, as he tried to get his brother to relax.

"Sam, where are we? Who is _she_?" he said, supporting his upper body with his arms.

The woman nodded and bowed slightly. "My apologies, sir. My name is Svetlana Fovell. I am the caretaker of the Moreau Manor."

Dean pulled the white covers off from him and shot up from the bed. But his knees trembled underneath his weight, so he sat back down. Svetlana and Sam assisted him back to the bed.

"Slow steps, sir," she said, as she tucked Dean back under the covers. "You're just as stubborn as Mistress Shoshanna."

Dean sat up, frowning. "Shoshanna?" he asked.

Sam grimaced and wouldn't look at Dean. "Yes, she helped us just as you passed out," said Sam.

Dean pulled the covers again. "I need to see Shoshanna."

Svetlana set down some clothes on the bed, and gently tried to push Dean back against the pillow. "In your condition, sir? If I may express my opinion."

She studied Dean keenly and beamed. Sam started laughing. He poked Dean's arm and nudged his head towards Svetlana. It was only a few moments later that Dean realized she was waiting for instruction.

"Um, ok," he said, glowering.

She smiled. "I would stay here and rest. Mistress Shoshanna rarely has visitors, and she is busy at the moment. But if it is your wish to speak to her, I will advise her at once. In the meantime, you and Master Sam are more than welcome to roam around the manor."

Dean smiled weakly. "Very well," said Svetlana. "I will request Mistress Shoshanna's company. Lunch will be served soon. I imagine you would prefer a strong breakfast. Pancakes, fruit and coffee, perhaps? What would you like, Master Sam?"

Sam scratched his scalp and smiled. "A salad, if that's ok," he said, his cheeks turning red.

Dean stared at Svetlana with wide eyes and bobbed his head. "There is a robe on the night stand next to you."

With that Svetlana walked across the white and yellow room, and shut the white, French door behind her. Dean shook his head. Unsure what to make of the trust-fund lifestyle he had stepped into.

"Someone's hot for servant," said Dean. He glanced from the right to the left. The room was subtle in wealth. There was a large mirror, which reflected his chest up, a large, dark bureau, and the black leather chair, in which Sam sat in.

"So what the hell happened?" asked Dean.

Sam looked up at him. "You were hit by one of Crowley's men. The arrow was also poisoned. If it hadn't been for Shoshanna..."

"And you trusted her enough to get us out of there?" asked Dean.

Dean got up slowly, dragging one foot after the other. He picked up his gray shirt, which he wore the night they arrived in Charleston. There were no traces of blood or the whole that the arrow had made. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. It was clean. The material was still warm.

Sam scowled and got up from the seat. "Dean, you'd be dead if I hadn't. That poison almost killed you, and the arrow did some pretty nasty damage, too."

Dean turned around. "So why not take me to a hospital?"

Sam threw his arms up in the air and crossed his arms. "And explain the poison? That stuff was meant for one of Hecate's hit men, Dean."

Dean limped over to a large, white closet. The doors had outlines, which were painted in gold. He grabbed the large doorknobs and opened it. Inside he found a blue robe. He yanked it off the hanger, and slowly slid one arm after the other.

Dean cringed as he glanced down at the bandages, which stretched across his chest and looped over his shoulder. "So, when can I take the bandages off?" asked Dean, scratching his chest underneath the bandages.

Sam shrugged. "Not sure."

Dean walked towards the door, opened it and stepped outside, into a long white hall.

"Dean, wait," said Sam.

Dean observed his surroundings. There was a small, ebony table, with a vase and white orchids, as well as a large mirror. He walked across it, staring at himself. He still had a few cuts on his lips, and a scar on his forehead, which had started to heal. He heard Sam close the door behind him.

"How are you feeling? Can you walk okay?" he asked, as he caught up to him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Great. Fantastic."

"It'll pass."

Dean raised an eyebrow. He walked away and mumbled something under his breath. When he finally escaped the maze that was the hallway, he came to the main entrance of the house. It was soft beige and had high ceilings, as well as a long black-spiraled staircase, which started on the floor above him, and wrapped around both sides of the room. There was also a mini grand piano at the bottom of the staircase, which played some music by itself. A large crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Show off."

Sam stepped in front of him. "Where are you going?"

Dean grinned. "You heard the lady. I can roam."

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Dean, you can barely walk. You landed weird when Crowley sent you flying across the street."

Just as Dean opened his mouth to say something, he heard screams. Dean limped to the other side of the entrance room, and walked down another white hall.

"Dean, don't," said Sam.

Dean approached the last door, and heard the sound of bodies falling to the floor. Without hesitation, he grabbed the doorknob, turned it and pushed the door wide open, cringing as his muscles ached. As he did, he saw a flame of fire shoot out in front of him, followed by the sound of punches and kicks.

Dean stuck his head in and saw Shoshanna; she was in black pants and a pink sports bra, her fists were covered in black material. She balanced herself on a balance beam and held a large fighting stick. She was covered in sweat. Her back had shards of glass sticking out, as blood oozed out. She had the stick in front of her and guarded herself, as she fought a dark figure, cloaked in a black robe. He poked Shoshanna's feet, as though he tried to kick her off the beam, but Shoshanna jumped and wobbled. When she regained her balance she hit him over the head, before she knocked him off the balance beam.

She peeked over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. The cloaked figure vanished. She jumped off the beam and threw the fighting stick to the floor. She studied Dean and maintained a stoic demeanor, as she wiped the blood from her lips. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Dean watched as she observed her shoulder, which was bleeding and had glass shards sticking out.

"Dean?" asked Sam.

Dean turned around and saw Sam enter the room. He smirked as he closed the door behind him.

"Relax, Shoshanna," said Sam, motioning at Dean.

Dean watched as she tapped her shoulder to get the glass off and with the wave of her hand over her injury the blood disappeared.

Dean grimaced and shook his hand. "Can we talk?" he asked.

Shoshanna nodded and turned to Andrew. "I knew a week more would have been too much to ask," said Shoshanna

"What the hell?" asked Dean, throwing his arms up in the air. He scowled as he brought his arms back to his sides.

Shoshanna rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. A gust of cool air blew into the small gym. Dean turned around and saw a punching bag to the left of him, a treadmill, a stationary bicycle, and several swords, which clung to the ceiling, along with the balance beam.

"Demo, sorry," she said, as she grabbed a towel. "I see you're fit and ready to go."

Dean glowered. "I want answers."

Shoshanna smirked, as she removed the bandages from her fists. "And here I thought I was going to get a thank you for saving and healing your behind for the nth time in a row."

Dean took a step closer to her. He rolled his eyes. "Are you the Guardian or not?" asked Dean.

Sam stepped between Dean and Shoshanna, who were in each other's faces. "Would you two just chill out? Please."

Shoshanna took a step back and walked towards the back, throwing the bandages to the floor. She approached the door at the end of the room.

"Chill out? What are we in the nineties?" asked Dean.

Sam motioned Dean to walk ahead of him. As they trailed behind Shoshanna, she pressed a few buttons. There was a loud buzz, followed by several clicks. She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

They stepped into a small room. There was a large cupboard with what seemed to be jarred spices, plants, or roots. Shoshanna's sword also hung from the wall. In the middle of the room, however, there was a small podium made out of white marble. On top of it laid a large, leather bound book, with a red ribbon that served as a bookmark. Dean wandered away from Sam and approached the book. Just as his fingers were about to grace the book, it closed itself, and a white light surrounded it.

Dean loomed over a small brown box, which was open and had two crystals. One was an emerald green color, the other red.

"That should answer your questions, Dean," said Shoshanna, turning to the two brothers. "Need I say more?"

"What are these crystals for?" asked Dean.

Sam turned away and shook his head. "Sam did you tell him what happened?" asked Shoshanna. She turned to Sam and placed her hands on her hips.

Sam shook his head. Shoshanna walked over to the small fireplace and grabbed a remote control to turn on the television. Above their heads was a large flat screen television. They watched as scenes from what happened in Charleston were shown. Buildings were on fire. People attacked each other on the streets, and loitered shops only to come out with shovels or rakes to hit people with. Shoshanna then turned off the television.

"That was only what happened last week," she said. "They've brought their war to us, boys. As far as the crystals are concerned, I'm not all that certain what they do. But if they do what I think they do, we're in for a load of trouble."

Dean sighed and stepped away from the box. "What makes you say that?"

Shoshanna shrugged. "Call it a _hunch_. Charleston is under control. I was able to heal the possessed, but those taken out by the Soul Eaters are still on the loose," she said, as she walked over and pulled out a folded map from her cabinet. She unfolded it and spread it out on a large table just next to the cabinet.

"There have been isolated attacks in Sacramento, New York, and Ann Arbor similar to those here," said Sam, pointing at the map.

"We think that Hecate is using them as her army," he added.

Dean shook his head. "But without their humanity or whatever the hell it is, they'll die," said Dean.

Shoshanna gave Dean a thumbs up. "Which means she's only using them until its time for fresh meat, at least until she gets enough demons on her side to fight with her. Speaking of which," she said.

Dean scratched his scalp. "Shoshanna. Hecate said something about doing you in. You care to explain what she meant by that?"

Dean and Sam watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She stretched her arms out on the table and peeked down at the table. She bit her lip and exhaled.

"Svetlana is going to bring your food here. I'm just going to freshen up. Feel free to look around. Look, don't touch," she said, staring at Dean. "That means _you_."

* * *

Dean tore into his stack of pancakes and drizzled fresh syrup over them. He cut out a large piece and stuffed the food into his mouth. Sam stared at him, his eyebrows rose to his hairline.

"Hungry much?" asked Sam.

Dean ignored Sam and took another bite, as he reached out for his coffee. Just then Svetlana entered with another plate, a large Perrier water bottle, and a fresh pot of coffee on a cart. Shoshanna followed close after. Dean dropped his eating utensils. He noticed her hair was wet and watched as she shook out the strands of hair, and ran a brush through it. He tilted his head as he watched her bend down; his eyes wandered towards her chest. Sam sniggered. Dean turned to Sam, who smirked, as he ran his fork and knife through the batches of lettuce and chicken.

"What?" asked Dean.

Sam smiled and shook his head, as he stuck the fork in his mouth. "Oh, nothing. Beginning to see things a bit clearly, is all."

Dean scowled. "Jackass."

Sam laughed. "I wasn't the one caught staring."

Shoshanna sat at the other end of the table. Dean gazed as she adjusted her white wife beater and scooted forward, closer towards the table, while Svetlana poured her a glass of fresh, bubbly water.

"So why do they want the book?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna sipped her water. "I thought we were going to sit here awkwardly and eat," she said. "But if you must know, I haven't quite figure it out yet. There are multiple possibilities."

Sam and Dean studied each other. "Meaning?" asked Sam.

Shoshanna sighed. "I'm not sure yet."

Svetlana coughed. "Mistress, please," she said. "You are _eating_."

Shoshanna picked up her knife and fork, and cut through her salad, before she set down the utensils and looked up at Svetlana. "Svetlana, with all due respect, I would like to treat this like a business meeting, if you don't mind. In the meantime, can you call and postpone my meetings in France and Germany. I don't expect to be in Europe for at least another week or two."

Svetlana closed her eyes and puckered her lips. "As you wish."

With that, Svetlana strolled out of the room. "As long as I have the book, there is nothing to worry about," said Shoshanna. "And before you start lecturing me about not helping you or coming to you sooner, why don't we talk about Kevin and Castiel."

Dean and Sam dropped their utensils and glimpsed at each other. They had totally forgotten about Kevin. Shoshanna clapped her hands. "Perfect," she said, taking a sip of water. "Really, good job."

Dean pushed away his plate and clenched his jaw. "Look, we had orders to look for you okay," he said.

Shoshanna gasped and covered her mouth. "What really? You follow orders? Hurray."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shoshanna, your sarcasm isn't helping."

"And neither is your selfishness," she said, glaring at the two of them.

She shot up from her seat and rested her hands on the edges of the table. "The two of you have to realize that there will be a point in time, where you cannot and should not choose saving each other over the greater good. In order to become a hero, one must die."

Dean scowled back at her. "Or become the villain?" he asked, smiling.

Sam covered his face with his hands. "Really, you went there?" he asked, grimacing.

Dean sneered. "Someone had to."

Shoshanna sniggered and grabbed her water glass. "Great. I'm stuck with Batman and Robin. Comforting."

Sam coughed. "Can we get back on topic?" he asked.

Shoshanna sat back down. "Look, all I know is that they need the book and they need Kevin. _Why_ I am not sure. The book is useless to a mortal who is not the Guardian. Not sure what it's capable of in the hands of an Angel," she said.

Dean nodded and glimpsed at Sam. "So what do you propose we do?"

Shoshanna studied the two of them. "There is an abandoned go-go bar just outside of Charleston. It's run by demons," she said.

Dean and Sam stared at one another. "When do we leave?" asked Dean.

* * *

Dean and Sam drove passed Pete's Gogo and Bar. It was a building made out of wood, with a white and red sign that hung from the ceiling. The doors were closed with planks of wood, and the windowsills were covered with cobwebs, and had pieces of glass that were missing. Music rumbled, while demons went in and out of the building, with the exception of two or three who stood in front of the entrance.

Shoshanna pulled up in her motorcycle behind them. They stashed both vehicles behind some bushes and watched as demons appeared out of the fog that rolled in and out of the road.

"We need to find a way in," said Shoshanna, as she removed her helmet.

Dean smirked and walked towards the bar. "Dean, stop. What are you doing?" asked Shoshanna.

Dean grinned. "Scared?"

Sam and Shoshanna watched as a blue force field illuminated the dark, marshy area around them. Shoshanna ran towards Dean and pulled him by the shoulder. Dean jerked himself away.

"That hurt," said Dean.

Shoshanna rolled her eyes. "I told you not to, you cry baby."

"Guys, knock it off," said Sam.

Sam glared at Dean and Shoshanna who shifted back and forth under their feet. They wouldn't look at each other.

"I call truce. Between the two of you. At least until we get the information we came here for," said Sam.

Shoshanna and Dean glimpsed at one another and shook hands. "Truce," they said.

Sam clapped his hands together. "Shoshanna, is there a way you can get us in?" he asked.

Shoshanna uncrossed her arms and reached into her black leather jacket and revealed a glass vial, with a lime green liquid inside.

"It's a potion," she said. "I just finished brewing it when you guys came rolling into town. But it should be enough for all three of us."

Dean grabbed it out of her hands and jerked it back and forth. "What does it do?"

Shoshanna snatched it out of his hands. "It changes your appearance. It makes demons think you are one of them. It'll only last for an hour. So it's important we get in and out fast."

Sam nodded and turned to Shoshanna. "Ok, but if there is a room full of demons how are we going to get them to spill the beans?"

Shoshanna smiled. "Easy. We'll split up and I'll set up a trap so you can exorcise them. All we have to do is find someone with the information that we need," she said.

Dean shook his head and turned towards Shoshanna. "Wait, why do you get to set the trap? You're the one with the mojo to get rid of those demons in a heartbeat."

Shoshanna bit her lip. "Not tonight, I don't."

Dean stopped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Shoshanna pointed at the sky. "Do you see a moon?"

Dean and Sam frowned. "What?"

Shoshanna pouted and clenched both her fists to her sides. "Answer the question."

"No?" said Sam.

Shoshanna lowered her head. "Exactly. As long as there is no moon, I am vulnerable and powerless, which leaves you two like sitting ducks."

Dean gazed at her. Her skin was paler and her eyes were tired. He glanced down at her hands and noticed that they trembled.

"Ok, fine. ," said Dean.

Dean and Shoshanna exchanged looks and frowned at one another. "Well, bottoms up," she said, as she took a sip of the potion.

She pursed her lips and started coughing as she shoved the vial into Dean's chest. Dean took a slug, followed by Sam. The three of them coughed. Dean felt Goosebumps tickle his skin, as his face stretched and his arms itched. He and Sam walked towards a small puddle of water near them.

Dean's mouth fell open. "What the hell did you do to me?" asked Dean.

Dean peered down at the puddle and pointed at what was supposed to be his own reflection. A scrawny, blonde guy with glasses stared back at him, while Sam was a tall, fat man with freckles sprinkled on his face and a trucker hat. Shoshanna was now a blonde instead of a brunette.

"You changed hair color? Why do I look Where's Waldo?" he asked.

Shoshanna shrugged. "Oh come off it."

Shoshanna waved her hand towards the blue light, which protected the entrance to the bar. The light disappeared, and several charms, which hung in trees, fell to the floor around them.

After they walked passed the two demons at the entrance. They stepped in and saw several demons sitting at a bar, as a darker demon stood in front of them, yelling.

"Hecate is nothing but a treacherous bitch," he said. "We need to unite with Crowley, like it or not."

Several other demons groaned and yelled. They threw empty glasses and ice cubes at the demon, with the dark skin, blonde hair and green eyes.

"I'll go around the back. When I give the signal, start reciting the passage," said Shoshanna, as she pushed herself between the crowds of demons that stood next to her.

"What signal?" asked Sam, but Shoshanna did not turn around. "Shoshanna we should think this through."

Sam and Dean watched, as she circled the bar slowly. She jeered and yelled when the others would, but gazed back at the brothers and tilted her head towards the entrance, putting an index finger to her lips. After stalking the dark, musky bar twice, she reappeared next to Dean's side.

"Now," she whispered.

Sam and Dean began to mutter the incantation under their breaths, when all of a sudden the demons fell to the ground and peered up at the three of them. Shoshanna's sword appeared in her hands, as she pushed Sam and Dean back out of the circle and stood in front of them.

"Keep going," she said. "_Louder_."

Sam and Dean's recited the ritual loudly, even as screams muted them. They continued to say the passages of the ritual and watched as the demons all jerked to and fro, and covered their ears, while they latched onto the wooden floors and hollered in pain. They then all collapsed on to the floor. The screaming stopped. Several thuds were heard as twenty bodies all fell to the floor. Sam and Dean stopped.

Dean turned to Shoshanna. "Where's the chosen one?" asked Dean.

Clapping echoed in the dark corners of the bar. Shoshanna pushed herself in front of Sam and Dean.

"Stand back," she said, as she raised her blade.

Dean grabbed her and pushed her behind him. "Dean, what the hell?" she asked.

"Call me charming, but you are the one who is powerless tonight," said Dean, as he reached into his pocket for his gun.

"Sam and Dean," said a familiar, male voice. "Gotta hand it to you, Sam. I've never had someone pay their debt back so quickly. Consider yourself discharged."

Shoshanna pushed Dean's arm away and let her sword fall to the ground. Dean tilted his head towards her and saw how the blood drained from her face. Dean stared back at the figure, who, when he stepped into the light, materialized and revealed himself as McAllister. He sneered at Shoshanna and pursed his lips.

His blue eyes beamed. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you," he said, as he took a step forward towards Shoshanna.

Shoshanna frowned. "What are you doing here Logan?" she asked.

Sam and Dean glanced back at Shoshanna. "You know him?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna walked towards McAllister and gawked at him.

"Shoshanna," said McAllister, as he extended his arm out, so that his fingers could grace her face.

Dean and Sam took a step backwards as Shoshanna slapped McAllister's hand away. She took a step forward and punched him in the face. A gust of wind sent McAllister against the bar. The bottles of alcohol shattered against his back. He slid off the bar.

"Finish it," said Shoshanna, turning her head to Sam and Dean. "_Now_."

Just as Dean and Sam were about to start, when McAllister stood up and raised his hands up in the air. His leather jacket had shards of glass and was wet with alcohol.

"Stop, please," he said, smiling. "I am here with information that you need. Regarding you and that wimp of a Prophet Kevin."

Shoshanna scowled and grabbed her sword. Sam and Dean went after her as she leapt over the bar and held the blade of the sword against McAllister's neck.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

McAllister shook his arms out and rubbed the pieces of glass away with his hands. "I'm here to help. To show you that I have changed. Shoshanna."

Shoshanna laughed and lowered her sword. "Demons like you never change, Logan. You always work with an angle."

McAllister ogled her. Dean and Sam watched and waited for McAllister to make eye contact, but he would not budge.

"Tell them how you sold me out to Hecate and Crowley in exchange for the Grimoire," she said, as she pushed the blade up against his Adam's apple.

"That was before I knew that I loved you," he said.

Shoshanna punched him again. "You don't get it do you?" she asked.

Dean leaned into Sam. "This is awkward," whispered Dean.

Sam shook his head and lifted his gun up towards McAllister. "Shut up, man."

McAllister's face fell. "Shoshanna, _please_."

Shoshanna's grip on the sword tightened. "What do Crowley and Hecate want with the Grimoire, Kevin and Castiel?" she asked. "Tell me before I kill you."

McAllister lowered his head and took a deep breath. "They want the nexus. Somehow they think the two are linked. Kevin and Castiel are nothing but hostages. To defeat either Hecate or Crowley, you'll need them."

Shoshanna took a step back and shook her head. "You're lying."

McAllister's eyes filled with tears. "All I want is to protect you."

Shoshanna fell limp against the bar. "I had a heart back then. You took _everything_ I had. Every memory. My humanity for fuck's sake," she said, with tears in her eyes.

Dean and Sam watched each other, and they both lowered their guns. It suddenly made sense. Shoshanna fiercely wiped her face.

"Where's the third crystal?" she asked, shoving the knife further up into his chest.

McAllister howled and groaned. "In the depths of the Black Forest," said McAllister. Shoshanna pulled the knife out of his chest and backed away.

McAllister gazed at her and at his wound. He studied her and frowned. "Getting the crystals to open the portal of hell is nothing more than a death trap," he said.

Dean clenched his jaw. "Why is Crowley after me and Sam?"

He glared at Sam and Dean. "It has something to do with Shoshanna's heart. They seem to think the two of you are the Wizard of Oz."

Shoshanna looked up and glared. She grabbed her pocket-knife from the scabbard tied around her leg, and stabbed McAllister in the chest. "Get one thing straight, Logan. I _never_ loved you. I may not remember the last twenty years of my life, but of this I am certain."

McAllister shook his head. "Shoshanna, _don't_."

Dean and Sam cringed, stepping back. Dean watched Shoshanna glare. "When we get Kevin back to safety, and when Crowley and Hecate are dead. I will kill you, even if it's the _last thing_ I do."

She pushed passed Dean and Sam and ran out of the bar. Dean walked over to McAllister and grabbed him by the collar, before shoving him over the bar.

"I'd make myself scarce if I were you," he said.

McAllister glowered at Dean, before he limped over to the shadows and disappeared.

* * *

Dean woke up later that night. He tossed and turned underneath the silky sheets, before he finally got up. Sam was in the second of five guest rooms. As he stared at the dark shadow of himself in the mirror, he heard the sound of water splashing. He threw the sheets off of him and limped over to the doors, as he slipped a shirt over his arms. When he opened them and stepped outside onto the terrace, he saw a figure in the pool.

He walked over, careful not to step on the puddles of water, which were on the white marble floor leading to the large, roman like pool. It was white and was illuminated by the lights underneath the trees and columns, which surrounded the pool. As he came closer to it, he recognized the figure, which swam around in the illuminated water. It was Shoshanna. She jumped out and swam towards the edge of the pool.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

Dean bent forward. "Not really. What are you doing here? It's four in the morning."

Shoshanna splashed water towards him. "The water relaxes me when I can't sleep, which is why I sometimes have the heater running at night, in case I can't sleep around the New Moon cycle."

The light from the pool reflected back on Shoshanna's star-shaped pendant. In the background, Dean could hear a cat meowing.

"That pendant, I've seen it somewhere," he said, pointing at her chest.

Shoshanna glanced down. "According to my godfather, it belonged to mother's."

Dean nodded. "So you don't remember anything? How you lost your memory?"

Shoshanna took a deep breath. "No. I mean. I get flashes of memory, strangely enough only when I am around you or Sam. I was left with no other choice but to trust Svetlana and my godfather. I suppose it makes me weaker as a warrior."

Dean scowled and sat down on the edge of the pool, dipping his feet into the warm water.

"And you trust us and them?"

Shoshanna turned away from him and leaned next to the edge.

"I don't really have a choice. We'll have to find Crowley and beat the truth out of him, if we're ever going to find out."

The cat meowed again and ran towards the pool, squishing itself between Dean and Shoshanna. It hissed at Dean a couple of times, who then scooted over. Shoshanna laughed.

"Silly beast," she said, as she scratched the cat underneath its chin. "Norwegian Forest cats aren't normally so possessive. I apologize."

Dean cringed as he looked down at the cat. "Does it have a name?" he asked.

Shoshanna stroked the cat with her wet fingers and nodded. "_Loki_. I wanted to name it Skotsgaard, after the Norwegian Cat God, but it only seems to respond to Loki, after Svetlana accidentally named it."

Dean's eyes widened. "_Son of a bitch_." he said. The cat leapt out of Shoshanna's hand and bit Dean, before hopping over to hide in the bushes.

"What's wrong? Not a cat person, I suppose?" she asked.

Dean shook his head and pouted. "No, nothing. I just thought of an old friend. Look, Sam and I will head out in the morning, but thanks for putting us up."

Shoshanna headed away from the edge of the pool. "No problem. I'll be in Germany until further notice on business. I'll leave my number with Svetlana, in case you need to reach me."

"So you're helping us?" he asked.

Shoshanna shrugged. "Might as well. I keep running into you."

"What about the crystals? Was McAllister lying about them opening a portal to hell?" he asked.

Shoshanna bit her lip and wouldn't look at Dean. "I wish he was. But at this point, it's the only shot we have."

Dean dipped his hands into the water and splashed some on his face. "Let us help."

Shoshanna shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but with me gone, these humans will be left defenseless. They'll need you. It's your journey."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the reminder."

Sam and Dean left the next day, and while Sam drove the Impala just outside of Charleston county, Dean motioned him to pull over, as they headed inland.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as he steered the wheel over to the emergency lane.

"Gabriel," said Dean, as he leapt out of the car. He leaned up against the door and waved his arms. Several tree branches moved back and fourth, leaves gathering at his feet and the wheels of the Impala.

"Gabriel, you bastard. I know you can hear me. Get your ass here now."

Sam frowned. "Dean, you want to explain what's going on here?"

"Gabriel," yelled Dean.

"What? What do you want?" asked Gabriel.

Dean and Sam turned around and saw Gabriel, who no longer wore a business suit, but rather stuck to a loose fitting shirt and some jeans.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Dean. "Loki? Really, you couldn't be more creative?"

Gabriel cringed. "I have no idea—"

"Don't give me that! Why are you parading around like a cat? And why didn't you tell us that you found the Guardian!"

Gabriel grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the car. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Sam grabbed Gabriel and tried to pull him off Dean. "Dean, what are you talking about?"

Dean shook himself off and pointed at Gabriel. "He was the cat."

"What?" asked Sam, confused.

Dean groaned. "He was the stupid, grumpy cat. He's been with Shoshanna all along. Tell us why, Gabriel or I swear—"

Gabriel stepped away from the two brothers. "I don't have to do anything, especially if it puts her life in danger."

Dean and Sam turned to Gabriel. "What?"

Gabriel buried his face behind hands. "I was on earth for a long time. You have to understand. I got bored from time to time, and with goddesses running around everywhere—"

Dean leaned into Sam and whispered. "Why do I get the feeling I am about to get a taste of what it's like to be on Maury?"

Sam bit his lip and ran his hands through his hair. "Why don't you tell us already what is going on? You've been hiding something from us long enough."

Gabriel sighed. "She's my daughter."


	9. Chapter 9: Lonely Shepherd pt 2

**Chapter Nine—The Lonely Shepherd and Brown-Haired Warrior Pt.2**

"That explains the smart mouth," said Dean.

Sam shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. "How long have you known?" asked Sam, not looking at Gabriel.

Dean and Sam both leaned up against the Impala, and watched Gabriel pace back and forth. "After you mentioned her the first or second time."

Dean approached Gabriel and stood next to him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask. "You probably need this more than I do."

He handed Gabriel the flask. Dean watched as Gabriel gulped down whiskey. When he handed it back to Dean, he shook it only to hear a few drops swish back and forth.

"Who is your baby's momma?" asked Dean.

"_Dean_," said Sam, glowering.

Dean studied Gabriel and noted how his eyes darted back and forth, before he fixed his gaze on the road. "Diana. Her mother, died giving birth," he said, clearing his throat.

Dean frowned. "Wait, if Shoshanna's mother died, why didn't you step in to take care of her?"

Gabriel closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I would have risked exposure, Dean. Besides, what makes you think I didn't watch over her?"

Dean and Sam fell silent. They watched Gabriel, whose eyes watered slightly. They caught a glimpse of him, making eye contact with them, but he quickly looked away.

"Happy?" said Sam under his breath.

"Okay," said Dean, throwing his arms up in the air. "We need to collect ourselves here. Why the hell did you have us look for her in the first place, if you found her?"

Dean studied Gabriel. Dean felt the blood in his veins pump a bit faster, and his heart drummed against his chest.

Sam rolled his eyes. He inhaled heavily. "Look, Hecate said she did her in. Do you know what she means by that?"

Gabriel sighed and kicked a few rocks near his feet. "No. I was hoping to be able to read or find any repressed memories in her. But it's as though they just went in and cleaned her slate. The only memories she has are those from the last five years. Every moment I spent with her, gone."

Dean crossed his arms. "Meaning?"

Dean and Sam watched as Gabriel began to pace. "When she was little, I would sneak into her room and sing her to sleep. She hated thunderstorms, and Charleston gets plenty of them in the summer."

Dean stepped away from Sam and Gabriel. "You have to tell her," he said.

He watched Gabriel, who stared back with a stoic look on his face. "I can't."

Sam gazed down at his shoes. "Gabriel, if you want us to help, you have to give us more information."

Dean sat with crossed arms and waited for Gabriel to open his mouth. "You can't be serious."

"Fine. But not here," said Gabriel. "Let's drive into the next town."

* * *

About an hour or two later, they pulled up to a local motel. Once they checked in, they walked across the empty parking lot and stepped into their room. There was a large moose head that hung from the wall and it looked down at them as it walked in. The carpet was red, and the walls were just planks of golden wood.

"Looks like our territory," said Dean, as he threw his bag onto the nearest bed.

Sam kicked off his shoes and fell on the bed. Dean coughed and motioned his head at Gabriel.

"Sit," said Sam.

Gabriel shook his head. "No thanks."

"So," said Dean, resting his elbows on his legs. "Tell us."

"Diana was the moon and hunting goddess. She's the one you get to thank for your occupation," said Gabriel.

Sam sulked. He lowered his head and watched at his hands. "Wait, doesn't legend say that Diana took a vow of purity?" asked Sam, glimpsing at Gabriel.

Sam and Dean watched as three beers appeared in midair. Gabriel grabbed them and handed one to both brothers. Dean yanked off the cap.

"It was the late eighties and too many tequila shots later," said Gabriel, dryly.

Dean shook his head. "That's a nice thing to say about the deceased mother of your child."

Gabriel took a deep breath and shook his head. "What we had was forbidden. Angels and goddesses aren't supposed to procreate," said Gabriel.

Dean scoffed. "I could have gone a lifetime without hearing that."

"It happened," said Gabriel, scowling at Dean. "I was just a lonely shepherd and she was reduced to nothing more than a brown-haired warrior."

Sam glimpsed at Dean, who fidgeted with his fingers. "Be that as it may, we agreed that I couldn't be in Shoshanna's life. She broke her oath, and my presence would have put both their lives in danger," said Gabriel. "Her people would have been after me, my people would have been after her, and Shoshanna would have been killed in the crossfire."

Sam and Dean gazed at him, as he strolled over to the window, pulled back the beige curtains and stared out into the night sky.

Sam turned towards Dean. "I read somewhere she had disappeared just after she turned 18."

Gabriel turned around and faced them. "Shoshanna was kidnapped. She was missing for three years, and resurfaced around the time I decided to help you with the apocalypse," said Gabriel, as his hands clenched into fists.

Sam covered his face and raised his palms in the air, gesturing Dean and Gabriel to not intensify the argument. "Okay, okay. So, did Hecate do anything to Shoshanna to lose her memory?"

Dean stared at Gabriel, who finished his beer with one gulp. "Hecate is just a tool in this. My guesses are, whoever wanted her alive, wanted to train her," said Gabriel.

"Yeah, but what for?" asked Dean.

Sam and Gabriel glanced at Dean. "What are you looking at me for?" he asked.

"Who knows," said Gabriel, shaking his head. "She could have been used as a last ditch effort to get _you_ to say yes to Michael and to force me into atonement. No one up there is willing to admit to anything just yet."

Dean stared down at his hand and noticed the bite that Gabriel had left on the palm of his hand. He could see where the fangs had dug into his skin, leaving a streak of red, swollen skin near his thumb. "But she escaped, and I'm betting that's when she was found and her memories were taken from her," said Gabriel.

"So all the training, everything that she knew would be gone, leaving her vulnerable," said Sam.

Gabriel nodded and sat down next to Sam. "I can tell you one thing: either she was tortured and the soul eaters did take her heart, or Hecate cursed her. Either way this is bad."

Sam sighed. "Without her heart, she dies."

Dean looked up and frowned. "And a curse kills, right?"

Dean stared at Gabriel and noticed that he would not look up at him. Instead, Gabriel buried his head between his knees and took a deep breath.

"It depends on the curse. Curses, as bad as they are, can be broken. But we have to focus on the fact that they want you both dead, especially _you_, Dean."

Dean shrugged, drinking his beer. "What else is new?"

Dean gazed at Gabriel, who stared at him with wide, stoic eyes. Shoshanna had Gabriel's eyes. "You don't understand. Word on the demonic grape vine is that they need you dead, not just as way of asserting their dominance over hell—"

Sam tilted his head over at Gabriel, but would not stop staring at Dean. "Do you think it has something to do with the fact that her memories come back when we're around?"

Dean flushed, as his eyes darted back and forth from his beer to Gabriel, who would not stop glaring at him. "I don't know, but we need to find out, and fast, which is why I am here. I am here to help."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, right. I'll believe it when I see it."

Dean's grin fell after he noted Gabriel's scowl. "There are fights breaking out all over the place. I don't know if you've heard the news, but people are disappearing left and right. Entire cities are empty. We need to make sure we leave first thing tomorrow for Chapel Hill."

Dean glanced up. "What's in Chapel Hill?"

Gabriel sighed. "Hell."

* * *

Dean and Sam woke up the following morning and drove out to Chapel Hill. Gabriel left the night before, insisting he had to go watch over Shoshanna. As they drove along the windy roads, and came along the interstate just before pulling into the city, Sam noticed a large cloud of smoke, which looked more like a nuclear mushroom cloud.

"Dean," he said, pointing.

Dean's eyes darted to the sky, as he let his foot off the gas.

"What does it all mean?" asked Sam.

Dean yawned and peered at Sam through the rearview. "What does what mean?"

Sam ran his hands through his hair and leaned against the window. "The fact that Shoshanna regains her memories when we're around."

Dean accelerated again, and the Impala sped across the tree-covered highway. "I dunno. I really don't. But I don't like the fact that we're keeping Gabriel's secret."

Sam shrugged, not looking at Dean. He pulled out a map from the floor. "It's not our secret to tell."

"Maybe, but what if she finds out?" asked Dean. "For all we know she's probably more than some telekinetic pyro."

Leaves and tree branches were scattered across the road, as Dean turned the steering wheel, the car swerved to the right and then to the left. Just as they were about to enter the county line, they saw several police cars that were set on fire.

The car slowed down, as Dean navigated it around the cars, as they spewed flames into the air.

"Hey boys," said Gabriel.

Dean and Sam screamed and the car screeched, as Dean stepped on the breaks, the car swerved along the highway. They jolted forward.

"Gabriel, what the hell," asked Dean, as he peered into the rearview mirror. Gabriel grinned.

"The fire has been taken care of," said Gabriel, pointing behind his shoulder.

Sam turned around and faced Gabriel. "What do you mean?"

"It's just an illusion. We can't risk anyone coming into the city. It'd be a risk for us."

Dean sighed. "Can't you call us before you decide to drop in? I almost lost control of the car," said Dean. He leaned forward and patted the steering wheel. "Sorry, baby."

Sam sneered. "What happened?"

"Hecate's army has taken control of the city."

Dean glimpsed into the mirror. "Things aren't going too well for Crowley."

Gabriel nodded. "He pissed off a lot of demons in helping you two."

"Okay, so what are we going to do? We can't just drop in," said Sam.

"Especially if she has soul eaters running around," added Dean, turning to Sam.

Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out his sword. "At last, my arm is complete again."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Dean shook his head. "Just drive," said Sam.

* * *

They pulled into Franklin Street. The street was empty, with the exception of a few trash bins, which were on fire. Sam rolled the window down and eyed the area. Most of the buildings were made out of brick, and the few light blue flags from UNC Chapel Hill were grey, parts had been burned off. Business stores were empty. Windows had been broken and shattered glass glittered under the sunlight. Dean drove the car around the bits of broken glass, as his eyes darted back and forth.

"I feel like I just stepped into the Walking Dead," said Dean.

Sam laughed and turned to Gabriel. "Yeah, but you're too much of a dork to be Rick."

Dean glared. "Jealous?"

Gabriel covered his face and groaned. "Dumb and dumber, pay attention!"

Dean pulled along the sidewalk and parked the car. They all carefully slid out of the car, and Dean ran to the trunk and pulled out his rifle, as well as a bag filled with other weaponry, and handed Sam a gun as well as a machete.

"This feels like a suicide mission," said Sam.

Dean turned to Gabriel. "What are we doing exactly?"

"Investigating," said Gabriel.

They walked down Franklin Street and ogled a city, which had been turned upside down. Lampposts were missing bulbs, electrical wires slithered back and forth on the concrete that released sparks, trash bins had been set on fire, and cars had broken windows and slashed tires. Doors and entire sections of cars were dented in body shapes, as though bodies had been thrown into the metal. Some were overturned, while others stuck out of the entrances to small stores. Dean grumbled and turned around to see if the Impala was okay.

"Dean?" asked Sam, holding the rifle.

Dean stopped walking. "Maybe we should stay in the car."

Gabriel lowered his sword and turned around. "What?"

Dean pointed at the car next to him. "Do I really have to explain myself?"

Sam moaned. "Dean, nothing is going to happen to your car. Now is not the time to get all worked up about it."

Dean pouted and strolled away from the car. "If that happened to your laptop, you'd have an aneurysm."

"Odd Couple. Knock it off!"

Sam grimaced at Gabriel, who shook his head and followed Dean. As they moved along the streets, they saw a young man lying on the floor. He was carrot orange hair, freckles, and spewed out black liquid from his mouth. The trio ran towards him.

"Leviathan," said Dean.

Gabriel grabbed him by one hand and held him up in the air.

"Let's talk," he said.

Dean and Sam had successfully tied up the Leviathan onto a chair of an empty diner. Gabriel perused around the restaurant, which looked like it had come straight of the fifties, what with the silver and turquoise bar, the vinyl records that hung from turquoise walls, the red cushioned seats and gray tables, as well as an old jukebox, which sat at the back of the restaurant. There were posters of James Dean, Ritchie Valenz, and Buddy Holly, as well as an aluminum styled kitchen hiding in the back. Pots and pans were scattered across the gray carpet, and dried blood stained it. There was a bloody road that led towards the back of the restaurant.

Dean and Sam stood behind the Leviathan, with their rifles at hand, while Gabriel twirled the sword between his hands and gazed down at the Leviathan, whose name was James. Gabriel finally approached him and slapped him across the face.

"Wake up," he said.

James looked up and grinned. "You'll never save your precious daughter. The clock is ticking and you know it."

Gabriel punched him in the face, knocking the chair down to the ground. James laughed, as Dean and Sam pointed their guns at him.

He tilted his head at Dean and Sam. "Those things won't hurt me," he said, pushing the rifles away. "You know better."

"Where's Hecate?" asked Gabriel.

James sighed. "If you must know, she's gone. The bitch is still too weak to walk on two legs, but as you can see, she took everyone in the city, just like in Detroit. Now she's after Shoshanna. Without Shoshanna's juice, she will die."

Sam shook his head and dug the rifle into his chest. "Detroit is a ghost town because of the recession—"

James cackled, his face contorted, as though he were making fun of Sam. "Look who knows so much. If you knew anything, you'd know she started her revolt from the moment the word got out that you two were going to put good ol' Lucy back in his cage."

Gabriel grabbed him by his hair, and pulled his head back. "And as always, you are left at the bottom of the barrel. How many of you did she kill? 20? 100?" asked Gabriel and slapped James with his the tip of his sword.

Black oozed out of James's cheek as he growled. "She destroyed about 10, except for me of course. She took the entire city hostage, while those cloaked wannabe Grim Reapers took away everyone's hearts. And she is after your little girl. Her and Crowley both. And you two are next," he said staring at Sam and Dean.

Dean punched James with his rifle. "Why do they want us dead?" he asked.

James cracked his neck and dislocated his jaw, as he glared at Dean. "To find that out, you'll need the Oracle. We don't work with that pathetic excuse of a demon anymore. It's all about survival now."

Gabriel lowered his sword. His face fell. "The Oracle? The Oracle is here?"

James licked his lips. "Why do you think Crowley and Hecate are at each other's necks? They know something you don't know," he said in a sing-song voice, laughing. "The final battle has just begun. The question is, are you ready to let the ultimate sacrifice happen?"

Gabriel stabbed James with his sword, which caused him to scream. James glanced at Dean, as ooze poured out of his mouth.

"I can tell you one thing," said James, sniggering. "Shoshanna's heart is missing. So hope, it would seem, is not entirely lost."

Gabriel stepped back. "Use Borax," he said. "Now."

Dean walked over to the counter, where he had set down his bag and grabbed a bottle of Borax, which they had gotten out of the car after finding James.

"Where's the Oracle?" asked Sam.

James glanced up. "Just follow the yellow brick road."

Dean threw Borax on James's face. James cackled as his skin seared under the borax, which slowly spread across his entire face, making him look like Freddy Kruger. Gabriel marched away. Sam and Dean walked behind him.

"The final battle has begun," yelled James. "And there will be blood, loved ones will die. The final battle has begun."

"Gabriel," said Sam, as they ran outside.

Dean ran after Sam and watched as Gabriel marched away and would not turn around to talk to them.

"Gabriel, wait," said Dean.

Gabriel finally stopped in his tracks and faced Sam and Dean.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" asked Sam.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Your intellectualism astonishes me. Where do you think I'm going, I'm going to Kansas to find the Oracle."

Dean stopped and scratched his chin. "You know where it is?"

"Back where it all began."

Sam approached Gabriel. "Lawrence? We're coming with you."

Gabriel shook his head in disagreement. "No."

Dean clenched his jaw. "This is our fight, too, man. You think this is just about you and Shoshanna? You heard what James said. They want us dead. If we're going to put an end to this, we have to find out why."

Gabriel turned to Dean. "Fine, but if you do, you have to promise me that you will not tell Shoshanna."

Dean took a step back and glanced at the sidewalk. "I can't do that."

Dean flinched when Gabriel grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. He felt Gabriel's fingers sear on his neck. Dean screamed. Dean pulled himself away; his fingers graced his neck. "What the hell did you just do to me?" he asked.

Gabriel sighed. "Just making sure you can't tell her. She can read minds, Dean. If she even senses any sort of conflict from you, she will go in and read your mind."

Dean gawked as Gabriel turned to Sam, who threw his arms up in the air. "I won't say anything, Gabriel."

Gabriel grinned, mocking Sam, but grabbed him by the wrist. Dean lunged at Gabriel, as Sam recoiled. He jerked his hand away, and revealed a scar around his wrist.

"See you in Lawrence. Be ready, it won't be easy getting to the Oracle."

With that Gabriel disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10: Drink Me

**A/N: Hello readers! Thanks a bunch for the support. Now, I don't normally write in disclaimers, but this chapter pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the story. Anything that will and can happen is pretty much in this chapter. It was a challenge to write this (adventures included), what with Grad School about to start, so yeah. Hope you enjoy. Until next time! xoxox **

* * *

**Chapter Ten— Drink Me**

"_Homeland Security and the CIA are unable to explain the mass disappearances in Chapel Hill, Charleston, and St. Augustine_—" said the reporter on the radio, as a gargled sound kept winding in and out, blocking every other word that was said.

Dean leaned forward, with his cell pressed up against his ear and shoulder, and turned off the radio.

"Damn it," said Dean, as he closed his cell phone and sank down in the passenger's seat.

Sam drove the Impala and looked over at Dean. "No answer?" he asked.

Dean sulked. "No."

"Have you tried Svetlana?" asked Sam, as his eyes stared down the foggy highway. It was a little passed midnight and they had just driven into Tennessee and were making their way towards Kansas. "Dean, this isn't good—people are disappearing."

As truckers sped along the lane next to them, Dean dialed Svetlana's number. He pressed the cell phone to his ear and sat up straight when he heard Svetlana's voice on the other line.

"Svetlana, hi. It's Dean. Please, just _Dean_. Look, I need to talk to Shoshanna. Where is she?" asked Dean, as his eyes narrowed. "Frankfurt? She's in Frankfurt?"

Dean huffed and closed his eyes. "What's she doing there?"

Sam turned to him. "She's in Germany?"

Dean nodded. "_Yeah, on business_. Sorry, Svetlana—that was Sam, yeah. Listen, can you tell her to call me as soon as she gets out of her business meeting? It's urgent. Yes, thank you. Bye."

Dean sighed and stuffed his cell in the front pocket of his green shirt.

"You can't tell her, Dean," said Sam.

Dean sighed. "Maybe not, I think Gabriel's taken care of that. But don't you think we should know what we're going up against?" asked Dean. He turned around and reached into the backseat. "Speaking of which."

He grabbed a brown, leather bound book. "It doesn't look good."

"Does it ever?"

Dean opened the book and perused through the old, wrinkled pages. "Oracles are mentioned in almost every culture, and they all usually mention some sort of sacrifice to get the information that you need."

Sam steered the wheel slightly to the right, as the impala cruised over a huge hole on the road. "Like an offering?"

Dean nodded. "This isn't going to be easy. Greek mythology also states that those who see the oracle have to go through a series of obstacles."

Just then, Dean felt his cell phone vibrate against his chest. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Shoshanna that was calling back.

"Shoshanna?" he asked, as he answered the phone.

Sam stared at Dean, whose face lit up slightly. He wasn't smiling, but he no longer scowled. Sam's lips curled and he bit his bottom lip, so that he wouldn't laugh at Dean. "Keep your eyes on the road," said Dean, glancing at him.

Sam snorted and glanced back at the highway. "Listen, sorry I called during your meetings, but this is urgent. Word on the grapevine is, that the Oracle is in Kansas and knows what's going on with Hecate, Crowley and us."

Sam beamed, while Dean glowered at him, even though Sam would not make eye contact with him. He shoved Sam's face, so that he would focus on the road.

"I mean, _you, me and Sam_. Anyways, we're about to go and find it."

"What?" asked Dean, whose eyes widened.

Sam glanced over at him. "What's going on?"

Dean exhaled and nodded. "Ok, ok. Is there anyway we can ward it off?"

Sam pulled the car over to the emergency lane and parked the car. "What are you doing?" asked Dean. "Keep driving."

Sam shook his head. "Put her on speaker."

Dean glowered. "_Are you crazy?_ No, not you Shoshanna. It's Sam…he wants me to put you on speaker. _No_, he's driving," he said, rolling his eyes. "Fine."

He groaned and pressed the buttons on his phone. "All right."

"Hi, Sam," said Shoshanna's. "Look guys, be careful. If it's _the_ oracle, you are in for some serious trouble."

Sam leaned forward and spoke into the phone. "What do you mean?" he asked, as Dean pushed Sam's face out of his own.

"Personal bubble, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever you see or do, it's not real. Do not let what ever it throws at you distract you. Just get to the Oracle. Keep that in mind, and you'll be fine."

"Will we need an offering?" asked Dean.

"She'll want your blood as your offering. If Hecate or Crowley are holding the Oracle captive, you'll probably need to get through their cronies first. There should be a potion for you to drink, when you begin."

Dean nodded. "Ok, well, we just left North Carolina and we're in Tennessee."

Dean could hear some voices in the background, talking rapidly in German. "_Ich komme ja gleich_. Look guys, I gotta get going. If you need anything, just call Svetlana. She'll be able to help."

"Thanks, Shoshanna," said Dean.

"Anytime."

Dean was just about to open his mouth to say something, but the call was ended. He shrugged and opened the door. "Hop in the passengers seat," he said.

Sam frowned. "What? Why?"

Dean walked around the impala and watched the road. He approached the driver's seat. "Go, now."

* * *

Dean could feel his pulse beat slightly faster under his veins, when they pulled into Lawrence. He sighed, when he saw that most of the town was still in tact, unlike Chapel Hill. Houses were still standing, and people were slipping out of houses and hopping into cars in the early morning to go to work. Dean looked over at Sam, who slept with his mouth wide open. He extended his right arm and hit him over the side of the head.

Sam jumped and pushed Dean's hand away.

"Dean what the hell?" asked Sam.

Dean smiled. "Well, I figured you didn't want me to stick a dead cockroach down your throat. So I opted for the pacifist route."

"Dean, pacifist would imply you're not violent."

He grinned and shrugged. "Words, words, words."

"Shouldn't Gabriel be here?" asked Sam.

"Hey boys," said a voice from behind them.

Dean yawned and peered in the rearview mirror. He waved his hand. "Hey."

"Morning, Gabriel. So, where are we going to exactly?" asked Sam. They had gotten used to his random appearance and disappearance act.

"How's Shoshanna?" asked Dean.

Gabriel and Sam turned to Sam, each with an eyebrow raised. "What?" asked Dean.

Gabriel shook his head. "She's fine. Running her godfather's business."

Gabriel stretched his arms out and leaned against the upholstery of the backseat. "Drive towards the Mausoleum."

Sam frowned. "There are no mausoleums in Lawrence."

Gabriel smirked. "You haven't been here in a while. Drive."

When they approached the cemetery. They were engulfed in fog. They could see demons walking around in the fog, especially in front of a small mausoleum with white roman columns. The only other thing they could see were tall trees and the tops of tombstones that stuck out like rocks along the seashore.

"Ok, so what's the plan?" asked Sam.

Sam and Dean turned around to Gabriel, but the backseat was empty. They climbed out of the Impala and saw Gabriel standing in front. With the snap of his fingers, they listened as the demons screamed and wailed, along with the sound of thuds, as the bodies of the possessed fell to the ground.

Gabriel crossed his arms and grinned. "I love my job."

"Wait, we need to do something first," said Dean, pointing at himself and Sam.

Gabriel raised his hand and shook his head. "Kid, where we're going, those weapons of yours will be useless."

Dean looked over his shoulder, in the area where his mom was buried. "Look, there will be time for that afterwards. I promise," said Gabriel.

Dean followed Gabriel and Sam towards the Mausoleum. There was no name engraved in the white marble, but Dean and Sam opened the glass door and saw a large, white, marble tomb. On top sat three small vials, with little tags attached to each.

Sam picked one up and read the tag. "Drink me."

Dean shook his head. "No."

Gabriel turned around and glowered. "Are you serious? A few years ago you were willing to drink a purple nurple, but now you see a potion and you want to run for the hills?" asked Gabriel.

"Shoshanna turned me into Where's Waldo the last time I drank anything like that."

Gabriel snorted and clapped his hands. "That's my girl."

Sam handed Dean a vial. "So what happens after we drink it?" asked Sam, as he took off the small cork.

Gabriel stared at it and smelled the contents. "Chamomile, opium, lavender, and something else. Look, we have to find the Oracle."

"I thought the oracle was supposed to be here," said Dean, as he sniffed the vial and cringed. He pulled out a pocketknife and cut his palm. He walked around the tomb and squeezed his hand tight, turning it into a fist, so that blood could drip onto the tomb. Once a drop of blood fell from his hand it fell and disappeared once it touched the marble.

Gabriel glanced at him. "She is. But we have to find her first. No matter what happens, we have to find each other, and don't believe what you hear or see," he said, staring at Dean.

They toasted and drank the potion simultaneously. Dean's eyes felt heavy and his vision blurred. He leaned against the tomb and saw how Gabriel and Sam started to collapse under the weight of the potion. Sam was the first to fall to the ground. The door next to Dean slammed shut and glass shattered, as a marble wall materialized. His knees wobbled, before they gave in and collapsed under him.

* * *

"You're weak," said a male voice. Dean shook his head. His eyes could not focus. All he could see were blurry, brown surroundings, as well as fire that lit up the place he was in. A figure came towards him and punched him.

"_Dean_," yelled Sam in the background.

Dean landed on his back. He shook his head and saw that he was in a dark cave, and that McAllister stood in front of him, with a blade in his hand. He looked up and saw the same forrest area from Purgatory. There were red eyes that stared, as McAllister circled him, like a lion hunting its prey.

"You're nothing but a worthless human being," said McAllister.

Dean spit out blood.

McAllister grinned. "Why you? Why is it always you and Sam, huh?" he asked. "What's so fucking special about two good for nothing twits like you? Especially _you_. You don't _know_ power."

Dean got up. "Oh and you do, mate?" he said, in a mocking British accent.

Dean punched him, but McAllister did not recoil or fall to the ground. Instead Dean screamed and pulled his fist into his chest. He could feel tears father around his eyes as he looked down and saw how bloodied up his knuckles were.

"You're not worthy," said McAllister, as he grabbed Dean by the neck.

"I should feed you to the hound of hell."

He could hear howls in the background. The earth beneath him began to tremble.

"I'll tell you why," said Gabriel.

Before Dean could do anything, he saw Gabriel stab McAllister.

"Thanks for that," said Dean, as he got up.

Sam ran into the cave. "Dean, Gabriel. What the hell was all that?" asked Sam.

"We're in the Oracle's Cave," said Gabriel. "Be ready for anything."

"Dean," yelled a familiar male voice.

Dean turned and listened. "Cas?" he asked. "Cas, where are you?"

Gabriel laid his hand over Dean's injury. Dean's skin prickled and his knuckles cracked. But when Gabriel pulled his hand away, it was as though he had never punched McAllister.

"Distractions," said Gabriel. "Things that could stop us from getting to the Oracle. Dean, that's not Cas."

Dean got up from the red, dirty floor and shook his legs out, as clouds of orange red dirt gathered around his feet.

"That's your brother," said Dean. "We have to find him."

Gabriel grabbed Dean by the shirt and pulled him close to his face. "Did you not just hear what I said? Distractions. That is all this is: one huge distraction, Dean."

Around the corner they saw a dark shadow coming towards them. When their silhouette hit the light, Cas' bloodied up vessel came into view. Blood dripped out of his mouth, and had large bags under his eyes.

"We were supposed to be family," said Castiel, staring at Dean. "Tell them how you left me for dead; how you abandoned me here."

Gabriel packed Dean by the arm and pulled him away. "He's not my brother," he said. "Dean, whatever happened was not your fault, ok. Listen to me, it's not your fault."

Dean glanced back at Cas, who studied him with teary eyes and began to cough up blood. Dean moved towards him, but then saw his eyes glaze over, with a yellowish tint. He pushed passed Sam and Gabriel.

"Ok, it's not real," he said.

"Dean, don't you walk away from me," yelled Cas.

Dean, Sam and Gabriel all turned and ran. Before they knew it, they stood in a dark tunnel, as they heard screams in the background. Shrieks came from every direction and echoed down in the heart of the cave. Sam covered his ears, and tried to focus. They ran down further into the cave, which was dimly lit by small torches, and was lit by blue fires.

"Help me," yelled a familiar voice.

"Shoshanna," said Gabriel.

Dean grabbed Gabriel's arm. "No matter what we hear, we have to keep going down the tunnel."

"Dad, help me," yelled Shoshanna.

Gabriel closed his eyes and jerked his arm away from Dean's grip. They ran passed a dark cage, which was illuminated by a ring of fire, as they ran by it. Gabriel stopped and looked inside.

Shoshanna hung by her wrists over a pool of water, with large chunks of ice. Hecate sat with her legs draped over a dark chair, with red corduroy cushioning. There were beings in dark cloaks, which clapped and jeered.

"Gabriel," called Dean, as he tapped Gabriel on the shoulder.

They both stared inside and tried to move, but their feet were cemented to the floor. As they dragged their feet into space, it felt as though they were chained by something heavy. Dean's muscles ached.

"Welcome to my trap, boys," said Hecate.

She jumped off the chair. "Now, I'm sure we can come to an agreement for the girl. After all, you both care about her, don't you?"

"Dean, Gabriel, don't," yelled Sam behind them.

"Dad, please," said Shoshanna, as blood dripped out of her mouth.

Gabriel took a step forward and stared at Shoshanna with wide eyes. "Let her go," he said, glaring.

"I expect you've been looking for this," said Hecate, as she pulled out a vial with a pink, flowy substance. "Your daughter's heart. But the bigger question is, whether she is under a curse or did she merely loose this? Which is it? Door one or two?" she said, sniggering.

"You're not real," said Gabriel.

Hecate cackled, her dark hair falling to her face. The soul eaters around them applauded. "Really? But isn't that what you said, when you watched me destroy your daughter?"

Dean turned to Gabriel, whose eyes watered. "You're lying."

"You left her defenseless," said Hecate. "Diana was right keeping her away from you."

Gabriel shook his head. "You're not real," he yelled. He lunged at her with his sword, but she turned and missed every hit, as though she knew every move he was going to make, before he did.

"Because of you, they murdered my sister," said Hecate. "And now, I get to kill the most precious thing in _your_ pathetic life."

Just then she snapped her fingers and Shoshanna's body was dropped into the water, and Gabriel took out his sword and lunged after Shoshanna. Dean bolted and ran towards the pool of water, and without thinking he jumped in. His body froze and he felt his chest tighten, as he swam deeper into the water after Shoshanna and Gabriel.

But as he floated around in the water, they both disappeared. He looked around and saw as the water began to crystalize. He pumped his arms and moved his legs so he could reach the top, but just as he reached the top, the water began to crystalize above his head. He pounded his fists into the layer of ice, when all of a sudden, he felt someone jerk him backwards by the shoulder.

He screamed and opened his eyes. Sam shook him back and forth. "Dean, are you okay?" he asked. "Listen to me. That was not real. Listen to my voice. It's not real."

Dean's vision blurred as Sam and Gabriel both helped him stand up.

"What the hell," he said finally, breathing heavily. His body trembled. He was completely soaked from top to bottom, and as he got up, his shoes would squeak with every step.

Gabriel packed Dean by his arms, and was able to breathe normally again. His lungs no longer tightened together, stopping the feeling as though his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

"We have to be more careful with you now," said Gabriel, gazing at Sam.

"Why?" asked Sam, as he helped Dean walk along the dark, muggy tunnel. As they entered the next cave, they stepped into a large, dark room, with a small red and white flag that read Stanford on it.

As they moved along, Dean noted that Sam shook his head. His eyes started to glaze over, as though he were falling asleep with his eyes wide open. He reached for Sam, when he collapsed against the wall of the cave.

"Jess?" said Sam.

Dean punched Sam. "Sam, stay with me. It's not real, ok? Whatever you're seeing, it's not real."

Sam turned to Dean, with angry eyes and pushed him away. "You killed her, you son of a bitch."

He punched Dean and grabbed him by the collar before throwing him to the floor, while Gabriel packed Sam by the shoulder.

"Sam, listen to me. Snap out of it," he ordered.

Sam pushed Gabriel away, who then ran after Sam, as he prepared to punch Dean again. Dean flinched and covered his face with his arms. He watched as Gabriel grabbed Sam by his hair and laid his hand on his forehead. Sam then collapsed next to Dean, heaving. Dean sat up and propped himself next to Sam. He slapped him slightly.

"Sammy? Are you okay?"

Sam coughed and stared at Dean with squinted eyes. "Dean? What the hell?"

"It's okay. We've got you," said Dean, as he stared at Gabriel.

Gabriel sat down. "We have to keep moving."

"Or not," said a female voice behind them.

Dean looked over Gabriel's shoulder and saw Jess. She wore a long, flowy white night gown stained with blood at the bust line. She waved her hand, sending a gust of wind towards the three. Dean, Sam, and Gabriel were picked up off the floor and collided against the wall of the cave. Dean and Gabriel were knocked out. Sam looked over at them.

"Wake up," he said, shaking his head.

His vision blurred as he fought to stand on his legs. His knees bent to and fro, as Jess came towards him with a knife in her hands.

"You abandoned me," she said.

Sam shook his head. "Do what you want," he said, with tears in his eyes. "But I know the truth, and you're not Jess."

As she lifted her hand to stab Sam, she shrugged and dropped the knife, before disappearing behind a cloud of smoke, and revealed a blinded woman, with white hair, and rosy skin, whose body was hidden under a long, flowy white cloak.

"Who are you?" asked Dean.

"Oracle," said Gabriel.

The woman nodded. "A fallen warrior has risen and two heroes are about to uncover their destiny."

Gabriel nodded curtly. "How do we know it's you?" he asked.

The woman laughed. "Come now, Gabriel. Even you should be able to know. I've heard God expects a lot now from the remaining Arch Angel."

Sam sat up, holding his shoulder. "I think I popped it out of place when I punched you," he said quietly to Dean.

Dean shrugged as he wiped his mouth. "I hate to interrupt, but why the hell did you put us through all of that. What did all of _that_ have to do with our presence here?"

The old woman turned to Dean. "It's all connected, Dean. The world is falling apart at the seams, and you've come here. So listen."

Just as Dean was about to say something, Gabriel turned to him and shook his head. The old woman closed her eyes as she walked towards them, and sat down, folding her legs like Buddha. She rested her old, thin hands on her knees and breathed heavily. When she opened her eyes, they were no longer those of a blind person, but were a piercing blue.

_**The Grimoire is on Earth,**_

_**With the key to transfer the Nexus.**_

_**It is neither good nor evil.**_

_**It is magic**_

_**And it is power,**_

_**Which can corrupt.**_

_**A fallen warrior has risen,**_

_**To find what he has lost.**_

_**And Death has new clients,**_

_**Among them a moon angel,**_

_**Who will die in sleep,**_

_**When the night is longest.**_

_**Her curse,**_

_**Can only be broken**_

_**By the most powerful magic of all.**_

_**Peace can be restored,**_

_**Only if the hero listens**_

_**And destroys the Nexus willingly,**_

_**Saving the prophet and Angel.**_

_**Peace cannot be found,**_

_**As long as the Nexus is on Earth.**_

_**The Dead will rise to help the Living,**_

_**And the Living will fall,**_

_**Setting the destiny of two brothers,**_

_**In Stone.**_

_**To uncover the truth**_

_**Heed this: For it is true,**_

_**While you may know things to be real,**_

_**It may not be what it seems.**_

_**Nothing is what it seems.**_

Gabriel shot up. "The Nexus," he said. "The Nexus is here? On Earth?"

The old woman closed her eyes. "You've known that for a long time, Gabriel. Your worst fear come true."

Dean stood up slowly, even as his legs wobbled. "What the hell is the Nexus?"

The old woman turned to him. "The ultimate power."

With that a gust of wind knocked Dean and Gabriel to the floor, and when they got up, they found themselves in the mausoleum, leaving behind a scroll with the prophecy.

* * *

"A riddle?" asked Dean. "We came all the way out here for a _riddle_? I thought she was going to tell us everything."

Gabriel sighed. "Are you going to keep whining? How the hell do you put up with this guy, Sam?"

Sam shook his head and marched a bit faster towards the car. "I'd rather stay out of this argument, thank you."

Dean grabbed Gabriel by the arm and pulled him towards him.

"You're going to tell me what that poem was all about," said Dean, glaring.

Gabriel shook his head. "Everything we need to know is in that riddle."

Dean smiled. "Well, I hope you wrote it down, because I am sure as hell not going to remember it!"

"Will you two just knock it off," yelled Sam. "I swear it's been nothing but arguing in a place where people rest."

Dean closed his eyes and exhaled. He had just remembered his mother.

"Come on, Sam," said Dean.

Gabriel stopped. "Where are you two going?" he asked.

"Look," said Dean, with his back turned to Gabriel. "We're not leaving until we pay our respects to our mother. Go ahead and leave if you need to, just tell us where to meet you next."

"Go to Sacramento," said Gabriel. "And here take the prophecy. Try to solve it."

He handed the small scrolled up piece of parchment paper to Dean. "Can't you tell us what it means? You can see the future."

"I've seen it."

Gabriel cleared his throat and vanished in the fog.

Dean and Sam stayed at the cemetery for a while and stared at Mary Winchester's grave. By the end of the day they had paid their respects, and while they would not admit it to themselves immediately to one another, they knew that they were heading towards something big, where their safety was not guaranteed.


	11. Chapter 11: Opera Ghost part 1

**A/N: Hey readers! This took longer than it should. I do apologize :( I hope you enjoy! Until next time (which I do hope is soon). xoxox**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven—Opera Ghost part 1.**

"Read it again," said Dean.

Sam took a sip of water, before setting down his bottle on the small table in the kitchenette of their motel room. He leaned up against the wall and held the scroll up towards the light. He cleared his throat and read:

_**The Grimoire is on Earth,**_

_**With the key to transfer the Nexus.**_

_**It is neither good nor evil.**_

_**It is magic**_

_**And it is power,**_

_**Which can corrupt.**_

_**A fallen warrior has risen**_

_**To find what he has lost.**_

_**And Death has new clients,**_

_**Among them a moon angel,**_

_**Who will die in sleep**_

_**When the night is longest.**_

_**Her curse,**_

_**Can only be broken**_

_**By the most powerful magic of all.**_

_**Peace can be restored,**_

_**Only if the hero listens**_

_**And destroys the Nexus willingly,**_

_**Saving the prophet and Angel.**_

_**Peace cannot be found,**_

_**As long as the Nexus is on Earth.**_

_**The Dead will rise to help the Living,**_

_**And the Living will fall,**_

_**Setting the destiny of two brothers**_

_**In Stone.**_

_**To uncover the truth**_

_**Heed this: For it is true,**_

_**While you may know things to be real,**_

_**It may not be what it seems.**_

_**Nothing is what it seems.**_

Dean bit his lip and scratched his chin. "Ok, I got nothing."

"Wait, Dean. Listen to this part again: The Dead will rise to help the Living, and the Living will fall, setting the destiny of two brothers in stone."

Dean sighed. "Ok, so it's probably about us. Other than that I have no idea how to even begin understanding that thing."

Sam set down the scroll and grabbed one of the books that sat at the edge of the white table. As it wobbled, the book opened. Dean and Sam both jumped out of their chairs and watched as the pages turned and stopped, when it came to the word "nexus," written in bold, old English print. Dean walked across the room, reached into his bag, which lay on top of a twin bed, with emerald green sheets that matched the carpet, found Ruby's old knife and over to the small kitchen area.

With the tip of the blade he pocked the book. Nothing happened. Sam stared at him, befuddled. He sat down again and picked up the book.

"The Nexus, or nectere in Latin, is the ancient, central power of the world," said Sam.

Dean was about to drink his coffee, but lowered his cup. "This already doesn't sound good."

Sam raised his hand. "_Listen to this_. Legend dictates that it is the central, neutral power of the universe and can only be controlled by someone who does not seek to use it—"

Dean rolled his eyes. "But, it's power proved to be so destructive that both heaven and hell worked together to banish it," said Sam, closing the book.

Dean closed his eyes. "Ok, so if it's so powerful, why would someone release it? Who would be stupid enough release it, when both sides wanted it gone? And if it's here, wouldn't we have seen something that powerful?"

Sam shrugged. "Someone who is desperate enough."

"Crowley," said Dean. "Ok, but why wasn't he able to use it to gain control of hell. That's obviously why he probably released it."

"That's because Crowley is nothing but a tool," said a voice in the background. "And the nexus only responds to neutral grounds."

Dean grabbed the blade and reached for his gun. Out of the shadows appeared McAllister. He wore a leather jacket and some dark jeans. His lip was bloodied up.

"What the hell do you want?" asked Dean, as he took a step forward.

McAllister grinned, sitting down on one of the twin beds. "Just here to help, lads."

Sam laughed. "Did you not hear Shoshanna? She wants absolutely nothing to do with you."

McAllister walked over to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, which sat under a plastic bag. He bit into the green fruit.

"You don't know her like I do," he said.

Dean glowered. "It would seem that neither do you."

McAllister stopped and set down the apple. "I will get her back. _You_ owe me."

Dean stomped over to him. "You better find someone new, because at it turns out, she wants you dead."

McAllister threw his hands up in the air. "If were you, I'd be careful here, anywhere really. Crowley and Hecate have both set your heads on a reward. The first demon, witch, our soulless bounty hunter to bring you in to either of them, dead or alive, wins. Turns out the Oracle made you to be a bigger threat than any of us ever imagined."

Dean lowered his blade. "You heard the prophecy. What do you know?"

McAllister shook his head. "Like I said, I'm here to help you. All I know is that you two are part of a bigger plan. Funny how things tie in, isn't it?"

McAllister walked over to the door and opened it. He looked over his shoulder. "Be careful. This thing you're about to do battle with is only scared by one thing."

Dean stared at him. "And that would be?"

McAllister grinned. "Shoshanna," he said, slamming the door behind him.

Dean sat back down. "Shoshanna is in France," he said.

"What are you pen-pals now?" asked Sam, grinning.

Dean sulked. "Laugh all you want."

Just then, his cell phone rang. Dean reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone, which blasted the benny hill theme song. "Yeah?" he asked.

He drank his coffee. "Garth, what's up?" he asked.

"We're in Phoenix, actually. Why? What's going on?"

Sam approached Dean and leaned in to listen to Garth. "We're on our way to Sacramento, actually. But, we'll drive through Los Angeles. If we head out now, we should be there in about six hours."

"What's going on?" asked Sam.

"Ok, see you then."

Dean snapped his phone together. "We gotta run."

"What about what Gabriel wants us to do?" asked Sam.

Dean ran over to his bed and immediately began to throw things into his bag.

* * *

Dean and Sam arrived at the Los Angeles Opera House the next day, right after three in the afternoon. It was raining. Streets were flooded, entire traffic lights were out, and parts of the city had been cut off because of excess floods. They pulled up to a large concert hall, which looked more like an aluminum can from the outside. Draped along the entrance, were red and black ads for the benefit gala performance of _Faust, _which dripped water. There were police officers in yellow and neon orange ponchos, as well as workers from the corner's office, who carefully lowered a body bag down towards a white ambulance. Dean and Sam ran over, and showered their fake FBI badges. The bag was opened and they both cringed. It was a female, whose neck was entirely covered in blood. The head was missing.

"Agent Bailey and Agent Isham."

Dean and Sam turned around and saw Garth dressed up as a police officer. "Drained of her blood," he said.

"Officer," said Dean, as he motioned for the Corner's Office to take the body away.

"Ok, what happened?" asked Sam.

"It's pretty gruesome. The caretaker of the opera house came in the morning and found her dead on stage. All that was found was this," said Garth, handing them a letter. "I mean, this is nothing compared to the disappearances."

"Wait, you've heard of them?" asked Dean, opening the letter. He handed it over to Sam, who stopped and read it.

_**Beloved Caretaker,**_

_**In the interest of the Opera House and those who run it, this is my second warning, regarding box five. That good-for-nothing understudy has been taken care of, and the fate of this Opera House is in your hands. I suggest you bring the benefactor of this great house of art to box five on the night of the benefit gala. For every letter disregarded, another performer shall die, and unforeseen consequences will occur—Opera Ghost**__**.**_

Dean laughed. "You can't be serious?"

Sam glanced up at Dean as he folded the letter. "Have you shown this to the authorities?"

Garth stopped and glowered. "No. But back to the disappearances. You'd have to be dead not to hear about that," he said quietly.

"How long have you been in LA?" asked Sam.

Garth shrugged. "Long enough. People are disappearing here and there, but nothing like what just happened in Crescent City."

"Crescent City? When did that happen?" asked Sam.

"Just yesterday. It's weird isn't it? One day, a whole town is bustling and the next poof. Like the earth swallowed them up or something."

They walked inside and climbed down several marble stairs, which met a set of stairs across from them and conjoined to make one grand stair-case and supported by large, white roman columns, that lead to a large, empty ballroom like floor. There were workers and police officers, which ran back and forth. Some took notes, while decorators pushed passed them, carrying a large, red carpet up the stairs. There was also a large, crystal chandelier, which hung from the top of a gold ceiling.

"What are you doing here?"

Garth, Sam, and Dean turned around and saw a man, with dark hair and glasses in a suit run towards them.

"I thought I told you to vacate the premises at once. We are preparing for a large benefit gala, and it will displease the—" said the man, with a thick accent.

"_Monsieur De La Roque_!"

Dean and Sam turned to see Shoshanna. She wore a black blazer, a white blouse, dark skinny jeans, and black boots that went up over the knee. She had her hands on her hips and glared. But her face softened when she saw the Winchesters.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked.

"We should be asking you the same thing," said Sam.

Garth leaned into Dean. "Who's the hot chick?" he asked.

Dean elbowed him. "Mademoiselle Moreau, I was just about to get rid of them," said De La Roque.

Shoshanna raised her hand. "Why are they here?" she asked.

"There's been a murder," said Garth, pushing passed Dean. "I'm with the LAPD."

Shoshanna grimaced and turned to De La Roque. "We need to talk. _Alone_."

She motioned him towards the hall. "I'll be back," she said to the guys.

Dean, Sam and Garth watched as Shoshanna yelled at the caretaker in French.

"Sam, what's she saying?" asked Dean, leaning into Sam.

Sam frowned at Dean. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"She's telling him he is over stepping his boundaries, and if he wants to keep his job, that he will inform her of any goings-on at the Opera House from now on."

Dean and Sam stopped and studied Garth, who shrugged. "What? I studied French for two years. It'd be a shame if I didn't remember something."

Shoshanna pointed the man in the opposite direction and stomped over to the guys. "Sorry, boys. I don't normally like for people to see my business face. But now that the caretaker is gone, would you care to explain what you are doing here."

"What are you doing here?" asked Dean, with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm organizing my godfather's annual Benefit Gala for Los Angeles County Schools."

"Aren't you supposed to be in France?" asked Sam.

Shoshanna walked passed them. "_Was_. I just flew in last night. So what is going on here?"

"Hi, the name's Garth," said Garth, sticking his hand out to shake Shoshanna's.

Shoshanna shook his hand and glimpsed at Dean. "Shoshanna Moreau-Guillén."

"The CEO?" he asked.

Shoshanna sighed. "Yes."

"Ok, so can we get back to the subject at hand here. What happened?" asked Sam.

"The Prima Donna's first understudy was killed," said Shoshanna. "De La Roque informed me."

"You mean mister stick up his ass?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna nodded and yawned. "Is this the first time this happened?" asked Sam.

"That I can remember, yes. My godfather donated money for the construction of the building. Now, I'm one of the benefactors to its foundation. Well the benefactor, if you will. My godfather's company has the biggest share."

"Shoshanna, have you heard anything about an Opera Ghost?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna covered her face, grinning. "Not this again. But yes. It would seem it stuck after _The Phantom of the Opera_ toured the Pantages. Why?"

Sam handed Shoshanna the letter. She opened it and laughed. "You're kidding."

Dean shook his head. "Is there anyway you can see what happened in the past? Maybe we can find out what really happened here last night."

He watched as she bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I've never tried to use my powers like that."

"There's always a first time for everything. Let's go to the stage."

Shoshanna escorted them to the stage area, which was still covered in police tape. Dean, Sam and Garth looked around. The EMF readers buzzed and beeped loudly, especially when the guys climbed the stairs onto the black stage. There was a backdrop, which featured large mountains and trees. In the wings, Dean and Sam noted large intricate props.

There was a loud thud. Dean turned around and saw as Shoshanna collapsed next to the first row of red chairs. Dean ran over to her and helped her up. He held her face. "Look at me," he said. "It's okay. You're okay."

Shoshanna shook her head. "Ok, we can rule out foul play. It was something evil."

Dean grabbed her and pulled her up. "What did you see?"

"A beast."

* * *

Dean, Sam and Garth had all followed Shoshanna back to the Roosevelt Hotel, and were busy eating lunch, while Shoshanna spoke to Svetlana privately.

They were in a large room, with gray walls and a white ceiling. There was a large sofa and ebony coffee table, as well as a large flat-screen television. They watched the news and muted the television, which ran reports about World Industries latest business transaction that was putting Sucro Corp out of business in Europe. Shoshanna strolled into the room and turned off the television.

"Garth and Sam, go with Svetlana," she said, pointing to the door behind her.

Sam and Garth stared at her. "She needs your measurements for tuxedos."

"Wait what?" asked Sam, standing up.

Shoshanna went through her mail. "You're here and you're my guests, you might as well come along. Besides these galas are frightfully boring."

Dean pointed and grinned. "No laughing. You're next," said Shoshanna.

Garth and Sam smirked as they got up and walked into the room that Shoshanna had just stepped out of. Dean grabbed a large strawberry and shoved it into his mouth, before grabbing one and offering it to Shoshanna, who shook her head. He watched as she sank onto the couch next to him and sighed heavily.

"Something wrong?" he asked, with a full mouth.

Shoshanna smiled weakly. "No. The flight. It was way too long, and I'm not quite back on USA time."

Dean nodded. "So did you get the crystal?"

Shoshanna yawned. "Excuse me. Yes, I did. It nearly killed me though."

Dean's eyes widened. "What?"

Shoshanna sighed and unzipped her blazer. "Do you mind?"

Dean stared at her. "What do you want me to do?"

She pointed towards the back of her blouse. It tied around in the back with an off-white bow. As he pulled the ribbon and came undone, Shoshanna held her blouse up from the front.

"You see the scars in the back?" she asked.

Dean pulled at the blouse, and saw scars that ran up her back. It looked like nails had been dragged down her back. "Nothing has ever taken that long to heal," she said. "Something is weakening me, Dean."

Dean held the ribbon, as her hands reached back and twisted it to make a bow. "It still surprises me, you know. That you and Sam have been able to do this for so long."

"Believe me, not without a loss or two," he said.

She covered her face and cringed. "And then these headaches. Since I got into LA… I dunno. I see pieces of my life. Can't help but feel overwhelmed at times."

Dean stopped. "Like what?"

She turned to him. "A man," she said, folding her arms. "I must have been three or four. It was raining. There was lightening. I remember being afraid. Svetlana was already asleep and my godfather was in New York on business. But this man appeared out of the shadows. He came to me and sang me to sleep."

Dean's throat tightened up. "What did he look like?"

Shoshanna sighed. "His hair was like mine, only slightly lighter, I think. He had fair skin, eyes kind of like yours, only darker. I remember—I remember just feeling safe. He was crying. I know who he is. I can _feel_ it, but I just _can't_ place him. I'm sure that even if I saw him, I still wouldn't be able to tell you, who he is."

Dean exhaled. He was sure it was Gabriel. "I'm sorry," he said, not looking at her.

Shoshanna shrugged. "It's okay. At any rate, we're dealing with something powerful here."

Dean nodded. "How do you do it?"

"I close my eyes and see things, how else," she said.

Dean smiled. "No, I mean. Go from totally emotive to business."

Shoshanna stopped. "It's who I am. Besides, it would give my godfather's colleagues an excuse for my beheading. Emotions are a luxury I can't afford."

"Ok, so what did you see back at the opera house?"

"A Nahual," she said.

Dean frowned. "A Na-what?"

"Nahual. They're like Wendigos, only worse. They control the earth's elements and anyone or anything around them, and were creatures that terrorized the Aztecs," she said.

Dean watched her walk over to the coffee table, which supported the flat screen. There was a large, rather dusty book. She picked it up, flipped through the pages and handed it to Dean.

"And you think this is what left the letter?" he asked, reading through the book.

Shoshanna sat down next to him and pulled on her blazer and looked over her shoulder. "It's time to visit Pai Mei."

Dean's eyes squinted and he pursed his lips. He wasn't sure what that meant.

"It's a metaphor. Don't hurt yourself."

Dean shook his head. "Like father, like daughter."

"What?" asked Shoshanna.

"I didn't say anything."

* * *

The next day, Dean, Sam and Garth all pulled behind Shoshanna's sleek, black Porsche Cayenne and into a wet, alley. Fire escapes burst out of old, white buildings, as homeless hid underneath plastic bags and cardboard boxes. There were signs in Chinese. Around them they heard techno music. The buildings around them vibrated, and in the distance they could hear the chanting of people, as well as screams.

"I can't read any of this," said Dean.

Shoshanna walked up to them, opening up an umbrella. "No need to. Just follow me."

They marched down the alley and approached a metal door, with Chinese symbols painted in red. Shoshanna knocked on the door, shaking her hands off of the water. The door opened, and Shoshanna muttered something in mandarin, after which they were let inside.

It was a dark room with strobe lights that hit from all sorts of directions in greens, blues and purples. Sam and Dean stared with wide eyes, as they watched people, drugged off of ecstasy, waving their hands and dancing to the music, while others gazed into the darkness with wide eyes, unaware that they were being watched. Dean felt his arm grabbed and when he looked up, he saw Shoshanna motion him, Sam and Garth towards the back of the club. They climbed a set of stairs, but when they reached the top, two guards would not let them pass.

"He's expecting me," said Shoshanna.

One of the guards, a tall dark man, with green eyes crossed his arms. "Better luck next time, sweetheart."

Shoshanna looked over her shoulder and grinned. Without warning she pulled out her knife from underneath her black, over-the-knee leather boots and threw it at the guard's chest. The guard fell to his knees and screamed, as a ring of fire erupted underneath his legs and consumed him.

"Stand back," yelled Shoshanna, as she retrieved the knife and ran after the second guard, who ran away.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks, as Shoshanna raised her palm into the air and turned her hand into a fist. The demon exploded.

Dean glanced at Garth, whose mouth was wide open. "What the? Was that her? Is she a demon?" asked Garth.

Dean frowned. "No," said Shoshanna, walking back towards them. She slid her knife into her boot.

"You scared us just a tad," said Sam.

She grinned. "No worries, Sam. It's not what you think. Now enough talk, more work."

She summoned her sword and nudged her head so that Dean, Sam and Garth would follow her lead. They lined up against the wall, holding each of their weapons closely. Cheers from down below drowned out their footsteps. Dean and Shoshanna approached the door, and when Shoshanna nodded, Dean kicked the door down and found a young Asian man, about Shoshanna's age, drinking scotch. He looked up with wide eyes and his hands in the air.

"Shoshanna, I thought it was time you came," he said, smiling. "You brought friends."

Dean turned to Shoshanna, who grimaced. Without lifting a finger, the young man flew against the wall and landed face down. "I've seen you've improved," he said, spitting out blood. She grinned and approached him, helping him up to his feet.

"Good to see you, Steve," she said. "Guys, this is Steven. Compadre extraordinaire and valedictorian of my class at Harvard. Steve, that's Sam, Garth and Dean, or as I like to call him Dirty Harriet."

Dean sneered, while Shoshanna merely sneered.

"You have demons working for you?" asked Sam, as he inched closer.

Steve and Shoshanna laughed. "Those were illusions, who do you think taught Shoshanna what she knows."

"Dean, do you have the prophecy?" she asked.

Dean nodded and pulled it out of his jacket. "Steven, it's important. We need you to figure out what this prophecy means, and who it's referring to."

Steve unscrolled the prophecy and eyed it. "It'll take me three days, four tops. Can you guys wait that long?"

Shoshanna nodded. "I'll be here until the end of the week."

"Oh that's right. Your godfather's gala. By the by, Shoshanna, I am sorry for your loss. Robert was a good man."

Shoshanna bit her lip. Dean watched her and expected to see her eyes water, but nothing happened.

"Steven, would you happen to know what's going on with the attacks at the opera?" asked Dean.

"No," he said. "But I do know that there is a Nahual in town. Nearly killed me the other night."

Sam approached Steven. "What did it look like?"

Steven scratched his scalp. "Like a werewolf, essentially. But these things change form, that's what makes them so hard to find to begin with. One minute they're a jaguar, and the next they're the mayor."

"But why would a Nahual have a reason to attack the Opera House? What do any of the performers have anything to do with it?" asked Garth.

Dean studied Shoshanna. "It has to do with the prophecy," she said.

"What makes you so certain?" he asked.

"If Hecate and Crowley know the contents of this prophecy, and have somehow, put all the pieces together, then everyone is out to get whoever is involved with the prophecy in order to prevent it from coming true," said Steven.

"Which would mean every demon out there is a bounty hunter on the loose out to kill us," said Sam.

"But what makes these things so dangerous? McAllister said—" said Dean quietly.

"What?" said Shoshanna.

Sam, Shoshanna and Garth turned to Dean, who laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just thinking out loud. Word on the grapevine is that they're after me and Sam…both Hecate and Crowley."

She pointed out the window. "The elements. It controls everything around it. It's raining. It does not rain in Los Angeles this much—especially at the end of September. It sucks its victims dry of blood, before it leaves the body to rot, or eats the thing entirely."

"Shoshanna have you had any premonitions lately?" asked Steven.

Shoshanna shook her head. Dean stared at her and noticed that her knees started to wobble. Her breathing accelerated. She closed her eyes and rested her hands on Steven's mahogany desk, before collapsing. Dean ran over to her and propped her in his arms.

"Do something," yelled Dean.


	12. Chapter 12: Opera Ghost part 2

**Dear Readers,**

**I apologize first of all for not having posted for a long time. I've been pre-occupied with my manuscript and I don't know if I will be able to post again anytime soon, but I appreciate the support and love for this little side project of mine. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful holiday season and a great start to the new year!**

**xoxoxo**

**wer-sonst**

* * *

Chapter Twelve—Opera Ghost part 2

Steven ran over to a large bookcase, and pulled out an old, black leather bound book. When he opened it, he pulled out a small bottle with pink fluid. Dean frowned. It looked like the vial that Hecate had paraded when they were searching for the oracle, only in liquid form. Steven uncorked the vial and instructed Dean to open her mouth. Dean took his fingers and parted her lips slightly, while Steven, with trembling hands, pushed the glass container to her lips. Dean wondered whether it was too late, whether Shoshanna would wake up, or even remember who he was. When the bottle was empty, she immediately jerked out of Dean's arms, coughing violently.

"Shoshanna, we have to do something about your heart," said Steven.

Shoshanna struggled to get up on her own. Her legs trembled and her eyes were unfocused. Dean approached her and grabbed her by the arms. "I need to get back to the hotel. I'm expecting a phone call from clients in Abu Dhabi."

"Shoshanna," started Dean. "You nearly passed out and all you can think of is your godfather's company?"

Shoshanna's hands turned into fists. She pulled herself away and leaned against the desk, breathing heavily. "There is nothing I can do. Until I get my heart back, it does not matter how many memories come back to me."

"It's not just that _Sho_," said Steven. "Your powers are changing, growing. You're not strong enough to handle it."

Dean glared at her and for the first time, Shoshanna threw her arms up in the air. He couldn't believe that, at a time like this, all she could think about was her godfather's company. Her life was on the line. Why did she not understand that?

"Fine, I'll call Svetlana and have her take care of the settlement."

"Speaking of which," said Steven.

Dean watched Shoshanna shake her head and glower. "Thank you," he said.

Dean turned to her, confused as to what had happened. Could Shoshanna read minds as well? He wished he had Bobby's old flask by him. "What the hell?" he asked.

"Telepathy," she said.

Just then Shoshanna's phone vibrated against her hipbone. She pulled it out and stared down at it.

"_Oui_?" she asked.

Dean and Sam stared. Her face froze as she spoke in French. When she hung up she studied her phone for a long time, before looking up to meet Dean and Sam's gazes. "There's been another attack."

* * *

Dean and Garth rode in the impala and drove slowly behind Shoshanna's Cayenne, which screeched every time the car came to a complete stop.

"I thought Sam could drive a stick," said Garth.

Dean laughed as he pressed his foot down on the break and inched slowly behind the Porsche, giving himself enough room in case the car stalled. "It's a new car, the clutch is probably super easy."

"So, what's going on?" asked Garth as he slumped against the chair.

"What?"

Garth tilted his head and sneered at Dean. The corners of his lips curled. Dean didn't like where this was headed. "You know. Shoshanna."

"Not sure what you're getting at, Garth."

Dean cleared his throat and hoped that Garth would drop the subject entirely. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, when he felt Garth pat him on the shoulder. "Oh come on. I've seen the way you look at her. How you ran to her when she fainted all damsel in distress like."

Dean slammed the break just as the emergency lights came on. He watched as Shoshanna hopped out of the passengers seat and walked over to the driver's seat. A smile crept over his lips, as he watched Sam jump out of the driver's seat.

"That's not how I'd describe her, to be honest."

Garth whistled. Dean watched Garth as his head turned, following Shoshanna. "Tough cookie."

"Shoshanna, pull over I'll drive," said Dean, sticking his head out of the window.

She glanced over her shoulder. "If Sam can't drive a stick, I'm pretty sure you can't."

Dean bit his lip. She was very hot and cold. One minute, Dean would find himself thinking about her incessantly and the next, he wanted to cuss her out and yell at her. With that she disappeared into the driver's seat.

"I dunno man, life's short," said Garth, as he pulled out a purple pixi stick.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Garth sucked on the sugar and clicked his tongue together. "You're scared, admit it. Dean Winchester is scared of our little hunter heiress. I'm pretty sure prissy kitty doesn't bite."

Garth laughed and slapped his own knee. He covered his face and snorted. "You _like_ her," he teased.

Dean closed his eyes and groaned. "Garth, I will throw you out of the car!"

"I will tell you one thing."

Dean rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Guardians aren't supposed to be that strong."

Dean was taken aback by the lack of transition. He stared at Garth bewildered. He wanted to know how he even knew that Shoshanna was the guardian, and how he found out about what powers they have.

They stopped at the traffic light. "What do you mean? How'd you know that Shoshanna's—"

"I saw the Grimoire at the hotel just as we were going in for the fitting, and the last demon I hunted said something about it. So naturally, I researched. But, dunno man. Telekinesis, Foresight, Pyrotechnics, Empathic powers… too powerful for a Guardian, if you ask me."

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure if he should be nervous, or if he should interrogate Shoshanna about what is going on. There was something she wasn't saying. Something wasn't right. Steven said so himself, Shoshanna was changing. Was she becoming more powerful, because her memories were returning? But, if she doesn't have her heart—her humanity, would that same power destroy her as a result? Dean felt something tug at his stomach. He definitely did not like where this was going.

"Aren't Guardians usually that strong?"

Garth shook his head. "After everything I read, no. Most have foresight at best, but that Shoshanna… she has _too_ much power."

Dean stepped on the accelerator and followed Shoshanna. He had to talk to her, ask her what other memories she remembered. He also hoped that Steven would find out what the riddle from the Oracle meant. Something told Dean that Shoshanna's life depended on it, or at least, he felt that way.

When they got to the Opera House, Svetlana waited at the steps and ran to Shoshanna. She helped her climb out of the car. Dean studied Shoshanna. She grabbed onto Svetlana, who helped her up the stairs. If her powers were getting stronger, and if her memories were returning, why was Shoshanna so weak and what did it have to do with her heart—or lack thereof?

Policemen ran up and down the staircase, as Shoshanna approached the caretaker, who circled the room in hysterics.

"There's another message from the Opera Ghost," said De la Roque.

Shoshanna motioned De la Roque to give her the letter and handed it to Dean when he came up behind her. He tore the envelope open.

"What are we going to do? The gala is tomorrow night," said De La Roque.

Shoshanna pointed over to the box office. "Your job. Go!"

"The letter," said Garth.

Dean's face burned when Shoshanna turned to him and stared at him blankly. "Read it."

Dean cleared his throat.

_**Beloved Caretaker,**_

_**This is the last letter I will be sending you regarding box five. That good-for-nothing prima Donna has been taken care of, and the fate of this Opera House rests in your hands. If you do not want another tragedy on the night of the Gala, make sure that Shoshanna Moreau is in box five on the night of the Gala. This is not a warning; it is an order—Opera Ghost**__**.**_

"It wants me," said Shoshanna. "Fine."

"Shoshanna, no," said Sam. "You're not up for fighting a Nahual."

"I have you guys for back up. We'll be fine. Besides, there's a full moon tomorrow night, I should be up to par."

"No offense, Shoshanna. Can we even get rid of that thing?" asked Sam.

She bobbed her head. "Decapitating it should do the job. If that thing wants to see me tomorrow in box five, then he will."

Dean sighed. "Hold on a second, are you suggesting we use you as bait to get this thing? It could be a trap from Crowley or Hecate. We might as well stuff you in one of those cakes that strippers jump out of."

Dean stopped and grinned at the thought. Sam elbowed Dean. Dean shrugged. As amusing as the thought was, the fact of the matter remained. Shoshanna was in danger and they didn't know what they were dealing with.

"Do you have any better ideas?" she asked, scowling.

Dean pounded his fists against the desk. "Shoshanna, did you not just see what happened? Full moon or not, you're _weak_. Do you really think you can handle tackling such a thing?"

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulder. "We'll do what we can."

Dean jerked himself away. "You're not seriously suggesting we do this?"

Sam studied Dean. His brows burrowed. "Under other circumstances, it would be what you would want to do."

"Shoshanna, finding the last crystal almost killed you," said Dean.

Dean stopped and glanced at Shoshanna. He thought of the scar that ran up her spine and wondered if her weakness had to do with her last mission to the Black Forest, so she could retrieve the crystal. Garth whistled and ooed. Dean and Shoshanna glowered at Garth, who threw his hands up in the air and cleared his throat.

She paused. "Apropos crystals," said Sam. "Isn't there any other way we can find Kevin and Castiel? We've heard it's nothing but a suicide mission."

"You know what Sam, I don't really care what you or your brother think. If you want to help me find Kevin, fantastic. If not, you know where the door is."

Dean then glimpsed at Shoshanna, who looked away. "Shoshanna," started Sam.

"No," she said. "You don't know how much I have given up for these things. I have to see this through. But in the meantime, we have the Nahual to deal with. The choice is yours."

Dean paced around and shook his head. Garth shifted his weight from leg to leg.

"What do you have in mind?" asked Sam.

"We can split up," said Shoshanna. "I'll be in box five and the three of you can be in the orchestra section. That way if anything happens, we can attack from either side of the house."

Dean crossed his arms. "That's not good enough."

"Dean's right. One of us should be there with you," said Garth.

Shoshanna sulked. "Fine."

"I'll join you then," said Dean.

Later that night, Dean stood in front of a large table with an assortment of hor d'oerves, drinks, and mini-sandwiches. He grabbed a napkin and leaned over the table, examining the food.

"Looking sharp, Dean," said Garth. "Hoping little miss Shoshanna will notice?"

Dean turned to Garth and glowered. "All right, all right. I'll go find Sam."

People in tuxedos and ball gowns crowded Dean. The entire entrance hall to the opera house was decorated with large roman columns and vases filled with red and white roses. There was also a large red carpet which stretched from both staircases, and down towards the hall. It was simple and yet elegant. "Shoshanna's touch," thought Dean.

There was also a photographer with a large camera, who walked around the room, as butlers in black slacks and white vests ran around with silver trays and glasses filled with golden, bubbly champagne. Sam walked up to Dean, who bit into an egg filled with orange filling and cheese sprinkled on top. But just as the food that his touched his tongue, he grabbed the napkin, placed it over his mouth and spit out the food. It was extremely salty. It was as though someone had bathed the eggs with sea water. Sam laughed.

"I take it you're not a fan of caviar."

Dean coughed. "Gum. I need gum."

Sam grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out some trident and handed it to Dean, who grabbed two pieces, unwrapped them and tossed them into his mouth. Just as he began to chew, he noticed Sam point at the staircase. Dean's mouth dropped.

Shoshanna descended the stairs in a fitted, red dress. Red tulle wrapped around her shoulders like sleeves, while a silky, shimmery red material wrapped around her body like a glove, in a mermaid kind of shape. Her golden brown hair was down and slightly curled. She wore a simple choker with a diamond stud and a white flower in her hair. Her lips were stained in red. In her hands was a large, red clutch bag. The photographer walked over to her and snapped pictures. She smiled and greeted the guests near her, before approaching Dean and Sam.

"Hi," she said. "Svetlana picked this out. I feel like a walking disco ball."

"You look beautiful," said Dean.

Shoshanna blushed. "Thanks, Dean."

Sam laughed quietly. Dean turned to him and glowered. "I'm going to find Garth, it's time for us to get down to the nosebleed seats."

He strolled away, looking over his shoulders. He gave Dean a thumbs-up. Dean shook his head. He finally understood the kind of embarrassment Sam must have felt, when he would tease him about whatever girl Sam was interested in. "So, do you remember everyone here?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna shook her head. "I wish I did. It would make my job a lot easier.."

A butler came by and handed her a glass of champagne. She grabbed two and handed one to Dean.

"Shoshanna," said a voice behind them.

They turned around and saw a tall, blonde guy in a dark suit and black bowtie. "Sasha," said Shoshanna.

He leaned over and kissed Shoshanna on the cheek. "Dean, this is Alexandyr Schröder. We went to Harvard Business School together. He also goes by Sasha. Sasha, Dean."

They shook hands. "So, Shoshanna I heard about you stepping down. What a shame."

Dean stared at Shoshanna, who looked down and sighed. He was unsure what Alexandyr was talking about. Shoshanna would never give up on her godfather's company. "Yeah. It is," said Shoshanna.

"And the will. People who are about to die usually only start to worry about their last will and testament."

"Sasha, so good to see you," said a female voice behind them.

Dean glared at Shoshanna, who addressed Svetlana. Shoshanna was stepping down? She had a last will and testament drawn up? Dean clenched his jaw. He felt his hands curl into fists. He wanted answers.

"Svetlana, please see to it that Sasha gets to his seat. Dean and I have a few things to discuss before the show starts."

Svetlana grabbed Sasha by the arm and dragged him away. When they were out of sight, Dean grabbed Shoshanna and pulled her away from the crowd. "Last will and testament? Is there something you want to tell me?" asked Dean, as he grabbed Shoshanna by the elbow.

"Dean, it's not what you think," said Shoshanna quietly.

"Then what the hell is it?"

Shoshanna took a deep breath. "Dean, this life we live," she said. "is uncertain. We are always fighting, always. One day you're alive and the next you're dead. Please, don't read anything into it."

Dean nodded. "That's what Steven was about to mention, wasn't it?" asked Dean. "He's taking over for you. Shoshanna, what aren't you telling me?"

He stared at Shoshanna, who did not say anything. Instead she glanced around the room and waved. "We should get to our seats," said Shoshanna.

Dean glowered and walked ahead of Shoshanna, leaving her behind. He didn't like the fact that Shoshanna was keeping secrets. Whatever she knew, could affect them. Dean didn't know what it was, but something inside him pierced through his stomach, as though something bad were about to happen.

* * *

An hour into the first act of Faust, Dean slumped against the chair. He shifted from one side to the next. He stared at the stage and watched a tall man, dressed in a long black cloak, stood behind a large cauldron and sang things in German that he did not understand. Dean yawned and looked to his side and saw that Shoshanna had fallen asleep. Her head fell and her body leaned towards him. Dean grabbed her and propped her against his shoulder, so she wouldn't strain her neck too much.

He watched her chest rise up and down, as she nestled her head into his chest. Her skin was cold and the toffee color from her skin was now a pale white. Steven was right, something was changing in her and it was taking the life out of her. He wondered whether Shoshanna was cursed. If so, what consequences would it have. How strong was the curse? He hoped that Steven would come up with answers soon. Shoshanna stirred. Dean stared down at her and watched her yawn. She saw Dean and smiled.

"Is it over yet?" she asked quietly.

"You've missed the first act," he said, grinning.

Shoshanna covered her face. "I hate these things. Always have."

Dean turned to her. "You what? So, uh, why put yourself through pomp and circumstance."

Shoshanna laughed. "My godfather always took me to these things," she said. "And even though he was never my real biological father, he did a hell of a job trying to be one. It's the least I can do."

Dean stopped to think of Bobby. Things were difficult if not down right impossible to figure out at the moment. He couldn't help but wonder, whether or not things would be easier if he were around. They probably wouldn't, but at least Bobby would be there, fighting by their side.

"So what happened?" asked Shoshanna.

Dean shrugged. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Bobby. How'd you lose him?"

Dean looked away. Tears stung his eyes. He didn't want to talk about it, especially when they were watching Faust, an opera that had an eerie resemblance to his own life—from selling his soul, dealing with evil, and everything else that came with the territory. He then felt Shoshanna's hand grace his own. He looked at her, but she didn't turn to him. Instead her grip tightened around his hand, even though her hands looked extremely frail. He felt as though someone or something was going into his thoughts, trying to soothe him so he wouldn't be upset about Bobby.

"Stop," said Dean.

Shoshanna turned to him, smiling. "What are you talking about?"

Screams snapped Dean out of his thoughts. He shot up from his chair and saw fire erupt from the orchestra pits. People ran away from the fire. Shoshanna stood up and pushed herself in front of Dean. A large, black jaguar growled and hissed at the audience as they ran and screamed in all sorts of directions.

"Stay behind me," she said, as her sword appeared out of thin air.

Box five was empty except for the two of them. Just then the doors to the balcony flew open, and Dean saw Sam and Garth running towards them.

"Get out of the way," yelled Sam.

Dean looked over his shoulder and saw a cloaked figure behind him. Before he could do anything, Dean felt his knees collapse. He closed his eyes and passed out.

* * *

"Dean, Dean wake up," said Shoshanna.

Dean regained consciousness. He blinked and noticed that he rested in Shoshanna's lap. Her hair was tangled, and her lip was bloody. He propped himself up.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We were blindsided," she said. "I—I didn't see it coming."

"That's right, Shoshanna," said a voice behind them.

Shoshanna shot straight up and leapt over Dean. She held him back with one hand and reached into her purse, pulling out a strip of paper. She muttered something in Greek, before she threw it in the ground. Dean sat up and saw that Shoshanna set a protection spell. He stood in the middle of an invisible bubble with red sparks that flickered when he moved.

"Nahuatl," said Shoshanna. "Show yourself."

In the darkness of the cage, Dean heard footsteps pacing back and fourth. "All with good time, dearie. All with good time."

"Show yourself, you coward. You wanted me, so here I am. Leave Dean out of this."

Out of the shadows, Dean watched as a male figure materialized. It was De La Roque. He stood with his arms crossed and a crooked grin on his face.

"You," she said. "You did this."

De La Roque laughed. "Good job, Scooby Doo. Only, this time, the villain won't get caught."

"Who sent you?" asked Dean. "Was it Crowley? Hecate? Who?"

De La Roque paced back and forth. "Neither."

"What?" asked Dean.

"Jupiter sent me."

Dean shook his head. Not Jupiter. Not the God, Jupiter. He stared at Shoshanna, unsure as to whether or not she knew what this meant. Things were about to go from bad to worse. Not only were Crowley and Hecate after Shoshanna, but now they had Jupiter to worry about. He stared at the ceiling, willing for Gabriel to come and help them.

"The planet, nice try," said Shoshanna, raising her blade.

De La Roque stretched his arm out and the sword flew out of Shoshanna's hands. He then lunged at Shoshanna and slammed her against the dark, brick wall, choking her with his forearm. Dean threw himself against the protective spell, but to no avail.

"Don't worry goddess, I don't plan on killing you. Jupiter will take care of that. But then again, who would pass up the chance to taste your blood."

Shoshanna then kicked him in the groin. In the distance, Dean heard a rough, male voice calling out his own.

"Dean?" the voice yelled.

It sounded like Sam. Dean snapped out of his thoughts, when he saw Shoshanna fly across the small room and landed next to him. The spell was broken. Dean grabbed her and propped her in his arms. Her head was bleeding. Dean pressed his hand on her forehead to add pressure. He watched as De La Roque turned into a jaguar and ran into the other room. When he looked down at Shoshanna, and tried to pick her up, he saw that the blood from her head was gone. There was a bright light that radiated from the palm of his hand, and it seemed to be healing her wound. He quickly snatched his hand away, and watched as the light faded from his hand.

"What the hell?"

"Dean?" asked Shoshanna.

They got up.

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah, let's go."

They ran into the next room and saw Sam and Garth on the floor, as the Jaguar circled them. Shoshanna pushed Dean back.

"De La Roque," she yelled.

With a snap of her fingers, the Jaguar transformed back into De La Roque and ran towards Shoshanna. Without warning, he grabbed Shoshanna and slammed her against the wall, pressing his arm to her neck, Dean fell to the floor and began choking.

"Jupiter will be proud of this."

Shoshanna then stepped on his foot and hit him with her elbow. Dean looked up and saw a bow and arrow materialize out of thin air. As Shoshanna and De La Roque fought one another, Dean crawled on the floor, stretching his arm out so he could get the bow and arrow, when it skidded along the floor towards Shoshanna's feet. She kicked De La Roque and quickly pushed him aside and picked up the weapon. She grabbed the bow and put it in place.

"It belonged to your mother," he said, laughing.

"Shut up," she said. "What are you doing here? Who sent you?"

"Jupiter."

"The god Jupiter?"

"The very being who wanted you dead at birth. You should never have been born. Do you have any idea what your presence in the world means? Power. Uncontrollable power that the world has never seen before, and you're wondering why Crowley and Hecate are after you? Are you really that daft?"

Dean watched and saw Shoshanna's reflexes cave slightly, as though the words had stung her somehow.

"You have no idea, do you? What this all means? What the truth is? It's not what it seems."

"Bull," said Shoshanna.

"You know the truth," he said.

Without another word, Shoshanna let go of the arrow and it pierced De La Roque in the chest. Everyone flinched as a white light illuminated the room and the floor trembled underneath their feet with a loud boom. Dean got up. He didn't understand what it all meant. What did Shoshanna know? What did De La Roque mean about Jupiter being after Shoshanna, and that nothing was, as it seemed? Shoshanna leaned against the arrow, before she collapsed to the floor. Dean ran to her. In the background, he could hear people running towards them.

* * *

"Where am I?" asked Shoshanna.

"Shosh," said Steven. "You're awake."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Shoshanna had been in the hospital for a week.

"Leave us," said Shoshanna, staring at Sam and Dean.

"What aren't you saying, huh?" said Dean.

"I swear Dean, if you don't leave," said Shoshanna.

"Gentlemen and Shoshanna," said Steven. "Please. Enough. We have to talk privately first. If you'd be so kind."

"No," said Sam.

"Look, these idiots aren't going anywhere," said Shoshanna sitting up in the hospital bed. "Might as well just say what you have to say."

Steve sighed. "It's not good. First, I'm still not done with the prophecy. I've deciphered parts of it."

"Ok, so what?" asked Dean.

"It's about Shosh," he said. "I think we all know that she's getting stronger, but because she has no heart, her body can't handle the amount of power spewing out of her."

"Ok, so what does this mean?"

"She will die," said Steven. "If we do not find her heart by the Winter Solstice, Shoshanna will fall into an eternal sleep. Without her, you guys can forget finding Kevin, Castiel, the Word of God; or stopping Crowley or Hecate from taking the Nexus."

"I thought Hecate's curse was broken. That's why she's still alive right?"

"Partially broken. Shoshanna should've died with how she was tortured, but something kept her life. But such a curse leaves a scar, and without her heart, that scar was never able to fully heal. Hence the sleeping curse."

"What are we going to do?" asked Sam.

"We have to find Kevin and Castiel. If we do that, you'll be able to do everything else on your own," said Shoshanna

"Are you insane?" asked Dean. "Did you not just hear what Steve said? Without you we're hopeless."

"We have to do something," said Shoshanna. "Now, if you can please leave us. Just for a few seconds."

Sam and Dean walked out of the room, stunned at what they just heard. This was the last thing they expected in terms of the prophecy. Without the Guardian there was no way they would be able to get to Kevin, Castiel or the Word of God. How would they stop Crowley or Hecate from taking the Nexus and unleashing it to destroy the planet? They stood outside, with their heads low and Steven closed the door, so that they wouldn't hear.

"Sam," said Dean. "I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"Back in the tunnel at the opera," he said. "Shoshanna was hurt."

"Ok, that's why we're here."

"No you don't understand. She was hurt and I healed her."

"Healed as in…angel like heal?"

"The whole nine yards."

"Maybe it was Shoshanna. She's powerful."

Dean shrugged, but something at the bottom of his stomach told him that wasn't the case. Something inside of him was changing and it was scaring him. He began to wonder how long it would be before something else happened, or if Sam would be the next to perform such a wonder….

Back in the room, there was a small bouquet of flowers next to Shoshanna's bed. Steve sat on the edge and stared at her.

"What else did you find out?" she asked as she began to sit up.

"You're not the Guardian," he said. "And De La Roque was right. You are the product of ultimate power. The prophecy says so."

Shoshanna closed her eyes and sighed. "The Nexus. That's what kept me alive for so long."

"That means the Winchesters…."

"Are the true Guardians of the Grimoire."

"So I have to help them be ready."

"Do you thing they can do it?"

"They have to. It's their destiny."


	13. Chapter 13--Heart of Darkness pt 1

_Hey ya'll!_

_Long time no see. I've been super busy with life, work and school, so I apologize for not having published in months. However, the school year is wrapping up, which means I will be able to post and hopefully finish this baby by the end of the summer. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this newest installment. Thank you so much!_

_xoxoxox_

**Chapter Thirteen—Heart of Darkness part 1**

The two weeks after the opera incident were spent hunting along the state of California with Shoshanna. Dean started to realize, somewhere between Santa Barbara and Ojai County, that the amount of supernatural activity had gone up. They had to stop in every other major city—vampires, werewolves, witches. They were everywhere, constantly doing something—either banding together or killing each other. There was a parting of ways—one that was creating more work for them than was necessary. Hell was breaking apart on their turf. As much as he downplayed it, trouble was coming.

Aside from the omens around them, when he took time to relax and think, he also really began to appreciate Shoshanna's hunting abilities, as well was her company—regardless of how many times he denied it to Sam. When she wasn't busy being Gabriel's spawn, and all of the smart-ass comments that came along with it, she was gentle, compassionate, and warm. Something Dean hadn't experienced in a while. No matter how bad things were, something would always tug at Dean's heart, because she was there. Even after all of this, and as good of a soul as she was, there was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way, and he knew it had to do with his new abilities. After every bloody fight, with sprains or broken limbs, Dean would go to bed only to find his wounds completely healed the next day. Shoshanna would either ignore him or change the subject entirely whenever he brought it up. It was only a matter of time before Dean would snap and demand that she told him the truth, but part of him was also afraid, which is why he had managed to keep his emotions in check.

He hadn't thought of a way to bring it up to Sam just yet. He told Sam about what happened in the Opera House, but refused to touch the subject since then. Something inside of him was changing. Dean was by no means an angel, or a sorcerer. So he didn't understand how he, after all of the years of hunting, was developing supernatural powers of his own. As they neared the end of their longest trip up the coast to date, somewhere near Bodega Bay, they pulled into a small motel. Dean and Sam got the room next to Shoshanna's. They were tracking the third to last stone, which would allow them to go into hell and save Kevin and Cass. Dean was unpacking a few of his things, while Sam flipped through an old book that belonged to Bobby.

"Something's not right," said Sam, as he turned page after page, frustrated that he couldn't find the answer.

"Why?" asked Dean, not looking over his shoulder.

"Dunno, I just—she's keeping something from us."

Dean tossed his things out from his bag, ignoring the itch that had been bothering him since Los Angeles. Much like Sam, Dean also wanted to know what this all meant, and why Shoshanna was being so secretive. He thought back to what Garth had said, the fact that Shoshanna had too much power to be the Guardian.

Sam reached into his backpack and handed Dean a beer, but just as Dean sat down on his bed and reached out for the bottle, screams made them jump in their seats. They shot up, grabbed their guns and ran over to Shoshanna's room. Dean kicked the door open and saw Shoshanna fly against the wall. She crashed against the shelf and knocked down a glass vase. The room was in disarray; the mattress was off the bed, pillows were torn apart, and shards of glass were sprawled all over the blue carpet. Dean crouched down and shook Shoshanna's limp body, worried that she was now unconscious. Sam and Dean looked around the room, unable to see who had done this. Dean saw a dark figure step forward in the light. He lowered his gun when he saw that Shoshanna stood in front of him.

"What the?"

"Knock next time," she said.

With a snap of her fingers, the body that lay on the floor next to them disappeared. Shoshanna closed her eyes, as a dim, pink light radiated from her body.

"What was that?" asked Dean.

"Astral projection," she said, dusting herself off.

"Wait, you can do that?"

"I know, right?" she said, rather enthusiastically. "_Awesome_."

"So, you fought?" asked Sam.

"Yeah."

"With your astral self?"

"Something like that."

"The stronger the power, the weaker _you_ become," said Dean.

"Thanks for the lecture," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm fine."

She stumbled over her feet and shook her head. For a moment she clung to the mattress, like she wanted to pass out, and Dean approached her grabbed her by one arm, expecting her to collapse, but she merely smiled at him. He propped her arm over his shoulder. He ogled her and watched her long, dark hair flutter in the air, stretching out towards him almost. Her tight jeans revealed the muscles, which twitched under her own weight. Sam grinned at Dean, who coughed and scratched his head, fully aware that Sam had caught him checking her out.

_So much for denying that_, he thought. She turned around and eyed the two, shaking her head, as though she didn't approve, and started to talk about what they had to do once they got to Carmichael.

"We have three weeks before the winter solstice," said Sam.

"That's enough time to get the crystals…" argued Shoshanna.

"Shosh, it's been two weeks. We haven't found a thing," added Sam, frustrated.

"All good things to those who wait," she said. "Besides, you're fully capable of doing it on your own, when the time comes…"

"We need you," said Dean.

"No, _you_ don't."

Dean stared at her intensely; he was angry that she could say something like that, that she could so easily put herself in harms way for him and Sam. Warmth sprouted from his chest, and his grip around her arm tightened; he couldn't let her go. A knot formed in his throat; he was frustrated that she would use her powers so carelessly like that, even more when she acted like the sleeping curse was no big deal. It drained her every time, pushing her one step closer into the deep sleep. Until they could find her heart, her use of magic threatened to kill her or make the curse take her sooner than expected. She coughed and her eyes darted to the ceiling. She rested her hand on his arm, and he slowly let her go. Sam cleared his throat and the two jumped half a foot away from each other. Dean looked up at Sam, who half frowned and half smirked. Dean bit his lip and stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsure as to why he was frustrated.

"Let's get started, shall we?" asked Shoshanna.

"What about the room?"

She waved her hand; with a swift, subtle motion the vase reassembled itself and flew back to its place on the shelf, as did the mattress and the pillows. It was as though Shoshanna's fight with her astral self never happened.

The three of them assembled. Shoshanna draped a corduroy tapestry with a five pointed star stitched in gold and a silver moon at the bottom, over the circular ebony table of Shoshanna's hotel room. Dean watched her as she grabbed her things, including the black box he had seen in Los Angeles. She then took the chain that hung from her neck—the one with the small star and blue diamond in the middle, and inserted it into the keyhole. She muttered an incantation to prevent anything from escaping, as she waved her hand over the lid. Dean's eyes widened when he realized he had just understood what she had said. _Blood of mine reveal their secrets, without unleashing them_. He looked over at Sam, who stood with his mouth lightly open, like he couldn't believe what he had just seen or heard. Dean frowned, questioning whether or not Sam was going through what he, Dean, was experiencing. Unaware that he and his brother were linked to something greater than they knew.

"Three left," said Shoshanna. "I know where the next two are. Should make them easier to find. The last is gonna be the hardest."

Sam approached the box and stared at it, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Dean, too, had his doubts. Unsure if Pandora's Box was really in front of his eyes. "Is this?"

"Pandora's box?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. "So far, I've been able to get sloth, greed, lust, and gluttony."

"Missing wrath, envy and pride," said Sam.

"Lemme guess, wrath is the bitch to find," said Dean.

"We find wrath, we find the others…we find the others, we'll get Kevin and Castiel out in no time," said Shoshanna.

Shoshanna nodded and extended her arms on the table, pressing her palms onto the tapestry. She motioned Dean and Sam to the table, and recited a passage to them, and had them repeat after her. They exchanged glances, as though they were unsure of what to do, but they both exhaled as the three of them linked hands, and circled the table.

They were summoning Diana, asking her to help them find the next crystal. Just then a bright, pink light radiated from the table and revealed forestry, as well as a group of Hecate's cronies standing in front of a large cave. Dean and Sam jumped back, panicked. They didn't like the fact that they had just done that, that they had just _used_ magic. Shoshanna pulled away from the table and the light disappeared. She stopped and frowned. Dean thought she looked like someone who had seen something familiar, but something familiar they couldn't place. Dean flinched as it exploded and darkened the room.

With a snap of her fingers, the fireplace lit up. Shoshanna then twisted her hand slightly, as Greek letters were engraved into each of the windows. They weren't like anything he had seen before.

"What are you doing?" asked Dean.

"Protecting you, what's it look like I'm doing?" she said. "We're going to have to head up the coast for the crystal. I suggest you rest up. Sam here," said Shoshanna, handing him the Grimoire.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"You can read, right?"

Dean stared at Sam, who stood with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. He laughed slightly and pursed his lips together when he saw Sam scowl at him. Dean didn't know why or how Shoshanna expected Sam to read the Grimoire. The last time he checked it was in old Greek, that and the fact that only she, the Guardian, could read the Grimoire.

"But I'm not the Guardian," said Sam.

Shoshanna's face hardened; Dean didn't know if she was frustrated, or if she didn't want to watch over Sam's shoulder as he read the Grimoire. "Just do it."

Dean noticed that she watched Sam sit down and open the book. When his fingers touched the corners of the book, a bright golden light flashed from the center, as pages fluttered on their own, before they stopped in the middle. A cloud of light radiated from the pages and floated over Sam and Dean, cloaking them in it. Warmth sprouted from Dean's heart and pumped through his veins. He could feel his pulse vibrate through his body, and the sound of two beating hearts in a room where there were supposed to be three. The vase in the shelf, the one Shoshanna had repaired, shook. Dean watched the earth around him move from side to side, like something cosmic was happening. He asked Shoshanna what was going on, but she didn't respond. Instead she closed her eyes and exhaled. Dean watched her chest rise and when she opened her eyes again. She slouched slightly and breathed heavily—like a part of her had been ripped from her. Sam jumped out of his seat.

"What the hell?" asked Sam. Dean looked over at the book and saw every page re-write itself in English.

"Don't be such a pansy," said Shoshanna. "We'll be back."

"We? What do you mean, we?" asked Dean.

Shoshanna motioned him out. When the two of them stepped outside, Shoshanna stumbled and held on to the railing. Dean grabbed her, even though he felt her slip through his grasp. When he touched her, he noticed that she wasn't warm, and her pulse was slow, unsteady…like the pulse of someone close to death.

* * *

Dean drove Shoshanna's Cayenne into town and stopped in the middle of the road. The city was completely empty. Cars sat in the middle of intersections, with doors wide open and motors running. Produce lay splattered on the floor. There was also a trail of blood that started on one end of the street and ended on the other. Once they had stepped out of their cars, Dean pulled out his gun and Shoshanna unsheathed her sword; the two of them walked over to the sidewalk.

"What the hell's Crowley doing with these people?" asked Dean.

"The Nexus," said Shoshanna, stopping in her tracks. Dean watched her as her gaze went blank, as it normally did when she had a flashback. "Crowley isn't behind this…not this time. This has Hecate's name all over it."

"The Nexus?"

"The ultimate power."

"_It is neither good nor evil_," muttered Dean. "It's here, isn't it? They're after the Nexus."

Dean stopped in his tracks, his hands turned into fists, frustrated that Shoshanna had waited until then to tell him this. "You're telling me this now? We shouldn't be here, we should be stopping Crowley from getting the Nexus."

"Dean without the prophet, you're screwed, you know that."

Dean knew Shoshanna was right, but if the Nexus was truly on earth, then no one was safe—regardless if it was a neutral power or not. As much as Dean kept running that through his head, something at the bottom of his stomach churned.

"So what's the deal with the Nexus?" asked Dean.

"Really?" asked Shoshanna, turning around to face him.

"Aside from the ultimate power crap."

"Crowley's fighting for control of hell, with it he'd be the King of Hell no questions asked. If Hecate gets it, hell gets a new Queen."

"But the Nexus is neutral," said Dean.

"Loopholes, my friend. There's a way to get the Nexus to follow, but blood needs to spill. Lots of it. Legend has it that the blood and souls of the innocent could be enough to force the Nexus to pick a side, but they need an archangel's dagger to make it work."

"Gabriel," whispered Dean.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Dean, coughing. "Talking to myself."

A cold wind slapped his skin and shocked his lungs. It made sense. All of it. Why Gabriel needed to stay away. As far as Dean knew, Gabriel was the only archangel on earth, which would make him an easy target. He needed to stay away to make sure that nothing happened to the dagger, even though Dean was also certain that part of it also had to do with Shoshanna.

"With that dagger, once it strikes the person with the Nexus…."

"We're done for."

Just then Shoshanna closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to fight off a headache. Dean took a step closer to her, and asked her if she was okay, she nodded until she screamed and fell to her knees. Dean grabbed her arms and pulled her close. A gust of wind pulled him miles away from where they were. There it was. He saw it all. The cave where Shoshanna was held hostage; the same cave he had seen when he faced the tasks of the Oracle. Hecate threw curses at her left and right, as she hung from her wrists over a fire pit, blood dripping down her wrists. No matter what she did, Hecate could not bring Shoshanna to give in. Dean wondered, as the images sped through, what she wanted Shoshanna to give up.

Suddenly he was at Harvard, Dean saw a younger Shoshanna and McAllister. She was obviously smitten with him, and he had used her… double-crossed her…. He was back in the cave, half torn between lust and his love to save her. She ran out of a cave, as an invisible force destroyed the cave and saved her, let her escape. She disappeared with a gust of wind. On the coast off of Hong Kong, two young boys, who were up at sunrise fishing found her comatose body on the sand, as waves crashed into her body.

Everything forwarded to Hecate and a pack of demons storming Bodega Bay, taking people hostage. Dean let Shoshanna go and fell backwards. He crawled to his side and breathed heavily. His arms wobbled and his torso trembled—whatever energy he had left, had been sucked out of him. He looked up and saw Shoshanna unconscious. He dragged himself over to her and grabbed her hand, hoping that he could heal her. He looked down at his hand and saw the color return to Shoshanna's skin.

Dean groaned as Shoshanna leapt up and gasped for air. She looked over at Dean in shock. He grabbed her and pulled her into his chest, and calmed her down, reassured her that everything was okay, that he was there and that nothing would harm her. She struggled in his arms at first, until her breasts no longer heaved rapidly. She buried her face into his chest. For a while they sat there, as Shoshanna cried. He pulled her away for a second and wiped the tears away from her cheeks. They both stared at each other for a moment, realizing that, for a split second, something in the universe had united them.

"It was a diversion," she said breathlessly.

"What?"

"They got to Sam," said Shoshanna.

* * *

Dean forced Shoshanna to ride with him in the Impala. They had gone back to the hotel and saw that everything had been taken, except the Grimoire.

Neither Dean nor Shoshanna had said a word since they left the center of town. Dean gripped the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the empty road. It seemed as though Hecate had taken everyone and everything near Bodega Bay. The trees were leafless, there were no birds in the sky, and even the sun had set far earlier than he knew. Dark black clouds hung in the sky, as they sprouted like mushrooms. He felt the motor growl as he pressed on the accelerator. The blood count was rising; Hecate and Crowley was getting closer to taking the Nexus and using it to gain control of hell and get rid of Hecate, and Sam was who knows where.

"I don't know how it happened," said Shoshanna. "Why didn't I see it coming? It's a full moon…this shouldn't have—"

"Shosh, stop. Ok? We just need to find Sam. Why didn't they take the Grimoire? They've gotta know what that thing can do."

Shoshanna cleared her throat. "It only responds to the true owner."

"You, but earlier—"

"I… trust you and Sam, so the book does, too."

"It's a part of you."

There was a long pause. All Dean could do was step on the gas. He had to get to Sam. He had only had one encounter with Hecate, and he knew darn well that it would not be easy.

"The cave," she said. "You saw it…me running from it…"

Dean bit his lip and avoided her gaze, unsure if he wanted to admit his own intrusion to her life—to a life she didn't even remember.

"I—just had to get out of there…When I saw Logan again…I couldn't…I _don't_ remember what he did, but I knew…I knew he couldn't be trusted. All I remember was looking for someone—"

Dean sighed and bit his lip. He knew too well that she was after Gabriel. Logan used the opportunity to trap her and hand her over to Hecate. The battle for Hell never started after the apocalypse…it started before that, long before that. What didn't make sense was why Hecate wanted Shoshanna to begin with, and wondered what her role was in all of this.

"Do you want your memories back? I know…you need your heart, but…the truth, everything before what is now?" asked Dean.

"Wouldn't you?"

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened, as he pondered Shoshanna's question. As the road in front of them was bare of everything, except for a few stripped trees and tall grass that waved back and fourth like the ocean, he realized how empty the road was. There were no other cars on the road. The only thing that stood between them and their destination was the rumble of midnight thunder.

"I'm living a lie, Dean…I don't know who my parents are. I've done as I've been told, because I didn't have a choice. I had to survive. I'd rather take the pain of knowing, than to be in the dark…I want to be free again."

Dean nodded and glanced to his side, as the pacific-ocean crashed along the road next to them. "So why could I see it? Where are these powers coming from? Why do your memories come back when I'm around?"

Shoshanna shrugged. "I wish I knew," she said. "We need to find the crystals. Dean, if I don't make it out of this with my heart, Svetlana will be the only other person who can get you to the crystals—"

"Don't start."

"Dean, listen—"

"Shosh," he said, as he pulled to the side of the road. "Look at me."

Shoshanna shook her head and tilted it towards the window, until Dean grabbed her forcefully towards him. "Look at me," he said. "I'll help you get your heart back, I promise…until then, no death talk, no giving up. It ain't over til I said so."

"Dean, we have to—"

Dean groaned, frustrated that Shoshanna would not set aside everything that was going around them to take care of herself. "Don't. Ok? You'll get your heart back."

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, as he felt the warmth of her body return. It wasn't clammy anymore—either that or he was squeezing too hard. Dean flinched slightly; something wrapped around his arms and bound it to her. It warmed his forearm and squeezed until the force released. He looked into the rearview mirror and saw Gabriel's image, but when he glanced over his shoulder there was nobody there.

"Dean? What's wrong?" asked Shoshanna.

He said nothing instead he pulled the car out of park and raced back onto the road. He would have to ask Shoshanna for the Grimoire later, and read up on vows…whether he could read it would be another thing to worry about at a later time.

They finally pulled up along the side of a road that was connected to the woods. There were large redwood forest trees that towered over them, while fog melted and wove in between the roots of each tree and disappeared in the nightly abyss. Shoshanna grabbed her mother's bow and arrow, and stuck her small knife into her scabbard, while Dean grabbed their guns and loaded them. Dean looked up at the sky and saw a dark, ruby red moon in the sky. I

Shoshanna called Dean over towards her and threw her sword at him. He raised his arm and caught it. A spark of electricity jolted from his arm when his grip tightened around the handle; he let it fall to the ground.

"It's yours," said Shoshanna.

"What do you mean? You've been wheeling that thing like a warrior princess."

"It's useless to me now."

Dean frowned unsure what Shoshanna meant by that. He laughed it off, and tried to convince himself that he was reading too much into what Shoshanna was saying. Something inside of him knew that that it was not the case; there was more to what he had just felt. The sword felt warm in his grip; it made him feel stronger, confident. As he wielded it between his two hands, a spark of electricity ran up his arms. A newfound energy.

They stepped into the woods. Shoshanna held him back with both arms, took a step forward and pulled an arrow. She pressed the tip of it to her lips, muttered something in Latin, before she took it and sent it flying through the air. As it pierced through the thick fog, a light blue light exploded and lit the ground below them. She motioned them to follow her.

* * *

When Dean took his first step, everything froze around him; he called out Shoshanna's name, but she remained motionless. Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air, already tired of Gabriel's snooping and unwillingness to help them and his own daughter.

"She's can't hear us, jackass," said Dean.

Behind them, they heard twigs break; they turned and saw Gabriel materialize from the fog. He stopped when he got to Shoshanna. Dean watched his expression. On the outside, Gabriel looked heartless. He merely stared at his daughter, without the slightest hint of affection on his face. It wasn't until he stretched his hand out towards her, that Dean saw his hand tremble, like he was afraid he would hurt her. Gabriel quickly lowered his hand and stared at the ground.

"You need to get her out of here," said Gabriel.

"Not until we get Sam and the crystal."

"It's a trap."

Dean was frustrated. He glared at Gabriel. "What's here and why won't you tell us?"

"This is where she was held captive, Dean," yelled Gabriel.

Dean's moth opened slightly, as though he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Gabriel knew more than he was willing to share. Dean wanted to ask him if he had been in the car with them earlier, and he was going to until he glanced at Gabriel, hoping to find answers, but all Dean saw was fear. Gabriel was scared of losing his daughter. They had been separated once by the apocalypse, and again by Shoshanna's memory loss, and as stoic as Gabriel was, Dean knew that deep down, the love for his daughter, his closest family member, his own flesh and blood, was greater than Gabriel was willing to admit.

"You have to save her," said Gabriel, with a shaky voice. "I can't lose my family. Not again."

Dean nodded curtly. "I'll do what I can, but we need that crystal."

"No," said Gabriel.

"You know what. Piss off," yelled Dean.

Gabriel glowered. "I'd be careful—"

"No, you listen. She's _your_ kid. Instead of hiding in the corners and having us do the work for you, step in and help us. You wanna save her? Help," yelled Dean.

Dean wasn't sure if Gabriel would listen to the lecture. He stood there with his hands at his sides; he merely turned around and disappeared in the fog. Dean shook his head, as the fog around him and Shoshanna started to roll in like sea waves, and Shoshanna led the way to the cave.

"We don't have all night."

When they got to the edge of the forest near the cave, the full moon hung over their heads. Dean knew that Shoshanna was at her strongest when the moon was out, but how long would she hold up. Several of Hecate's followers stood in front of the entrance to the cave, cloaked in long black robes.

"So do we just sit here?" asked Dean.

"Best defense is a good offense," said Shoshanna.

"So what? We just attack."

Shoshanna shrugged. "Something like that," she said, jumping from behind the bushes. "Hey, big bad voodoo daddy."

Shoshanna took a step forward away from the bushes as a gust of air sent the guards flying against the walls of the cave. They hovered several feet above them and with snap of her fingers, they crashed into the tall trees next to them and fell. With a loud crack, their bodies exploded. Dean frowned when he noticed that a small grin across Shoshanna's face; he wasn't sure if it was the light from the torches, or the moonlight but something twinkled in her eye…something he hadn't seen before.

Shoshanna waved him in as a ball of fire formed in her palm. She reached her hand out as the fire illuminated the brownish red tunnels around them. Dean stared at her, waiting to see her react to the cave around them, but it was as though she had seen the place for the first time. She showed no signs of recognizing it. It was then that Dean understood what Shoshanna meant. The fire in Shoshanna's hand glowed.

What he had seen, after so many years of hunting, was gruesome—more than any human would stand, but so much of it was tied to who he was as a person. He was and always would be a hunter, even with things changing as they were, that part of his identity would never change. He didn't know what it would be like to have that part of himself missing. He stared at Shoshanna and felt a wave of emotions flush over him with a cold wind that blew from the direction they were going. Something was missing. Dean stared at Shoshanna. It felt as though his body had been cut in half, and even though he could function, part of him could not. He zoned out, even as he dragged himself further and further into the cave, and it wasn't until Shoshana nudged him that he snapped out of whatever reverie he threw himself in.

Goosebumps tickled his skin as he wondered, whether or not he had just felt what Shoshanna felt. His stomach churned at the thought. Not only was he becoming a healer, but he was also getting empathic powers. They saw Sam tied to a large boulder, with blood dripping out of his mouth. Dean ran to him as Shoshanna watched his back. He took the sword that Shoshanna had given him and tore into the thick, golden rope. Sam collapsed into Dean's arms. Dean slapped his face slightly and called out his name, trying to bring him back to consciousness.

"You shouldn't have come here," muttered Sam.

"Sammy, wake up, come on," said Dean.

"Dean, something's not right," said Shoshanna.

"What?" he asked.

Sam lifted his head and propped it against the boulder. "It's a trap."

"Just in time," said a female voice.

Dean and Shoshanna collided with the red rocks of the cave. Dean coughed and looked over at Sam, who gripped the red dirt underneath his fingers, as he fought to get to his feet. Shoshanna grabbed his hand and got to her knees, and called Hecate out, calling her a coward. All around them, fire torches blazed and illuminated the entire room. Hecate appeared from behind a large boulder, cloaked in black.

"How long's it been now?" she asked.

Shoshanna stepped in front of Dean and Sam. She reached into her pocket, pulled out two strips of parchment paper with red ink, muttered something in Greek and sent them flying behind her. The red energy field, which she had once put over their heads, encircled Sam and Dean. Dean yelled at her, ordering her to let them help, but she wouldn't listsen. Instead, Shoshanna grabbed an arrow and pointed her bow at Hecate.

"Hand over the crystal."

"That a threat?" asked Hecate.

Shoshanna shot the arrow and reached for her scabbard, pulled out her knife and chucked it right at Hecate's chest. Both of them struck Hecate and pushed her to the floor, but Hecate laughed and pulled the knife out, as blood spilled from her breast. The bow turned into sand once it touched her hands. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial. Dean recognized the vial—it was the one he had seen in the oracle. It was Shoshanna's heart.

"It's a full moon," said Shoshanna.

"That's where you're wrong, dear," said Hecate. "It's a blood moon. My favorite. Brings out the bad in everyone. That city you were in…they killed themselves."

"What?" asked Dean.

"Oh yeah, thing is…with the blood moon…forces people to look at darkness…to find darkness within themselves…within their hearts."

Shoshanna grabbed another bow and aimed it at Hecate, who laughed. She dangled the vial in her hands.

"Sam's right," she said. "You shouldn't have come here."

Hecate grabbed the vial and squeezed it. Just then the force field broke and Shoshanna began chocking. Her bow fell to the ground as she jerked in pain and screamed as the vial was being crushed between Hecate's hands. She quickly let go, and blew air onto the vial, as a dark cloud enveloped the vial. Dean watched the darkness seep through the crystal vial and blended with Shoshanna's pure heart, transforming it into a dark maroon, before it lost itself in a sea of black.

Shoshanna stopped screaming as Hecate tucked the vial into her cloak.

"The Nexus," she said with evil glee. "It's mine."

"What are you talking about?" yelled Dean, as he fought to stand up on his feet.

Hecate cackled. "Didn't she tell you? _And Death has new clients, among them a moon angel_… The bastard child of Diana and that archangel Gabriel. Shoshanna is and always will be the Nexus."

Dean tugged at the rope, which began to dig and cut into his wrists. Half-frustrated, half in disbelief. Shoshanna was still sprawled on the dirt floor, unconscious.

"I'd be careful if I were you, sweetheart," called a voice from the darkness.

Dean squinted and saw Gabriel step into the light. "Let them go."

Hecate stood up and grinned. "Gabriel, always a pleasure. How quaint, a family reunion."

Gabriel pulled out his knife from his jacket. "I won't warn you again."

"Neither will I," she said. "Shoshanna?"

Shoshanna jumped up to her feet and whipped around. She grabbed the bow and arrow from the floor and pointed it straight to Gabriel's heart.

"Fragile thing hearts…fragile and so pathetically weak," laughed Hecate. "Do it now."

Shoshanna's arrow struck Gabriel in the chest, just as Dean stood up.

"Shoshanna, no," yelled Dean. "Listen to me, this isn't you."

"It's too late, Dean," said Hecate. "Shoshanna has and will forever have a heart of darkness."

That being said, Shoshanna and Hecate were engulfed by flames and disappeared. Dean looked over at Sam, who still struggled to stand on his feet. Gabriel jerked the arrow out of his chest and screamed. The worst had yet to pass.


End file.
